


Losing the Melody

by Vanshira



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Attempted Suicide, Disability, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Loss, Medical, Music, deafness, hearing loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-26
Updated: 2008-01-26
Packaged: 2019-09-12 14:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16874193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanshira/pseuds/Vanshira
Summary: Music is the most important thing in Demyx's life...so what is he supposed to do when it starts to fade away?





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Instead of publishing this as 42 separate chapters, I've decided to condense them into chapters of six sections each, and include "The Day the Music Died" as its own chapter here instead of posting it as a separate work. The individual sections were originally written with a series of prompts, which now serve as the section titles.

_Hold My Hand_

Axel carefully cracked the door open and slid in sideways. "So, how's it going?" he asked quietly. Lunch could wait a few minutes while he went to check up on his sick neighbor. Besides, he thought like he kind of owed Demyx something. His life, for instance.

Demyx blinked and shifted a little. "I gotta say, I've been better. But I've been worse too." He gritted his teeth as he suddenly started to shiver violently. He'd picked up a nasty cough during the time he'd been trapped in New Orleans, and he hadn't been back for four days before it turned into the mysterious fever that had knocked Axel flat earlier. He wasn't running such a high fever, and he was still more-or-less fully conscious and usually in his right mind, but he was constantly lethargic and too weak to get out of bed except to use the bathroom. And those shivering fits only drained more of his energy. "I could get tired of that," he choked when the fit was over, as he was burrowing deeper under the covers.

"Yeah. Not fun, is it," Axel murmured. Demyx shook his head weakly. "Anything I can get you from the kitchen while I'm at lunch?"

Demyx shook his head again. "No thanks. I'm not hungry...look, don't bother coming back...just go home and stay there...if you come back in this mess, you're just gonna get in even worse trouble...I'll be fine, I swear..."

Axel sighed. So this was going to be one of those times. "Demyx...there's no need to worry about that anymore. You're home now. You're safe. Unfortunately, you're also really sick."

Demyx blinked up at him uncomprehendingly, then looked around as if seeing his room for the first time. Then he chuckled weakly. "Oh...yeah...you're right...duh. How could I not recognize my own room?"

Axel half-smiled. "Heh. When I had what you've got now, I couldn't even recognize Roxas. Now that was pretty bad. And at least you're not spitting water at random."

"Eh?"

"I said, at least you're not spitting water all over. When I was sick, they kicked me out of the castle for starting fires."

Demyx smiled a little, even though he'd heard it before. "That must have been a ton of fun..." He started shivering again, and Axel wondered briefly how he could stand being alone and sick in his room most of the time. He must have spent a lot of it sleeping.

Axel put one hand on the blankets. "All right, I'm going down to lunch; see you later. Don't forget to take your medicine, or Vexen'll get all pissy." Suddenly, a very warm, trembling hand emerged from under the blankets to cover his. "Hey, what are you..." But Demyx's eyes were closed, and he was still shivering weakly, even though there now was a faint smile on his lips. Axel sighed. "Okay, sicko, let go of me..." He moved his hand out from under Demyx's and left, trying to ignore the faint whimper from the bed. After all, someone without a heart could only pretend to feel lonely. Or guilty.

* * *

 

_I Can't_

Even though he was mostly recovered from his illness, Demyx was still pretty wiped out most of the time. Times like this, when he didn't even have the energy to sit up and play sitar, there was nothing better than just lying back and listening to music on his stereo for a while. After turning the volume up a little - for some reason, it seemed softer than where he thought he'd left it - Demyx was ready to do just that.

After about half an hour, he sighed and frowned. It still wasn't quite loud enough - maybe there was something wrong with the stereo. He stood up, turned the volume up a little more, and flopped back onto his bed.

Five minutes later, he still wasn't happy with where the volume was. He hauled himself back up, turned the volume up until he was sure it was loud enough, then collapsed again, now able to relax and listen quite contentedly, at least until he decided to change some of the rock CDs in the stereo for some instrumental music. He was sorting through the massive collection of CDs in the cabinet under the stereo when someone knocked loudly on the door. "Come in," he said, without turning around. He didn't hear the door open, but Axel said something just loudly enough for Demyx to identify his voice, and not make out a single word he said. "Sorry, what?"

"I said, could you please - "

Whatever he wanted Demyx to please do was unintelligible over the music. "Sorry, I still didn't catch that." Axel walked over and turned the volume down, almost too low for Demyx to hear anything at all. "Hey! What the hell are you -"

"I said, could you please turn the volume down a little, I have a headache!" Axel glared down at him. "What the hell's the matter with you? You didn't hear me when I knocked on your bathroom door either!"

"Axel, it's called music. I was listening to music. Not to anything else. I was listening to music because music is nice to listen to. It sounds good. It makes me happy. And if you say a word about how it's impossible for anything to make me happy -"

Axel didn't let him finish the threat. "Whatever. I swear, having that stuff pounding in your ears all the time is making you deaf." He went back to his own room, and Demyx turned the volume back up, though not so high as it had been. For some reason, when he flopped back onto his bed, he couldn't then just kick back and relax. Something kept gnawing at the back of his mind.

It took him a while to figure out what it was. _Maybe he's right. Maybe I am going deaf._

_That's impossible. I can't be going deaf. I can't. That's something you see with older people who've been working with jackhammers and other loud machines for most of their lives. I'm only eighteen. All I've done is play and listen to music. Not nearly enough to ruin my ears permanently._

_I can't possibly be going deaf. I can still hear the stereo just fine. Maybe I had to turn the volume up a little, but I probably turned it down earlier and didn't remember it. And I was right next to the speaker - that's why I had to ask Axel to repeat himself a couple times before I heard what he said, and why I didn't hear him knock on the bathroom door._

_I can't be going deaf. There's no way. And just to prove it to myself, I'll ask Vexen for a hearing test tomorrow..._

* * *

 

_Questioning_

  
"Has there been any pain in either ear, or have you noticed any atypical discharge?"

Demyx stared at the ceiling. "No...those kind of go along with ear infections, and you already asked about those..."

Vexen didn't respond to that, just wrote something down on a sheet of paper. "Have you had any recent difficulties in..." Demyx couldn't make out all of what he said. "...a sound?"

Demyx swallowed hard, instinctively. "I'm sorry, difficulties in what?"

"In locating the source of a sound," Vexen repeated, a little louder.

"Oh. Um, no. No problems."

Vexen wrote that down too, and something else. A little cold knot formed in Demyx's empty chest - he'd caught that mistake, when he couldn't quite make out the whole question - it was nothing, it had to be, but of course Vexen would think it was something... "Have you suffered any unusual dizziness, attacks of vertigo, difficulty maintaining balance, or motion sickness?"

Motion sickness? Demyx, motion sick? Was he out of his mind? "No. Nothing like that."

"Do you know of any family history of hearing loss?"

Demyx just stared. Family? He'd never really had one of those; he couldn't even remember his mother's face... "I have no idea. I know my grandmother had some trouble hearing sometimes, but that's just normal aging." Right?

Vexen wrote it down anyway. Then he pulled out a laptop with attached headphones and a little box with a little button on it. He opened the laptop, fiddled with it for a while while Demyx sat there wondering what he was doing. When he was finally satisfied, he handed Demyx the headphones and the button. "Put these headphones on, and take the button in your hand. Whenever you hear a tone in one ear, quickly and firmly push the button. Testing the right ear first."

Demyx had no idea how long the test went on, but he thought it had gone pretty well - he'd pressed his share of buttons, and heard about the same number of tones in each ear. Hell, if Vexen had wanted him to, he could have named exactly what pitch was being played in which ear when. "So...is that it, then?"

Vexen shook his head wearily. "No. I will..." Part of the sentence was too soft for Demyx to make out. " -form repeat testing, and possibly other testing beyond that, if...-so demonstrates a similar pattern."

Demyx could almost feel his blood freeze, and he was pretty sure Vexen wasn't doing it. "Similar pattern of what?"

"Hearing deficiencies."

Demyx vaguely remembered nodding his way through Vexen's brief explanation, which he heard about three-quarters of and paid close attention to almost none of, though he did remember that he was supposed to show up again the next day for another test. He also vaguely remembered stumbling his way back to his own room, turning the stereo on, and sliding to the floor, without particularly caring what volume it was set at. His memory sharpened at the point where he thought _Is this for real, or a nightmare? Am I going to wake up to find out I just dreamed the whole thing from sheer anxiety and my real hearing test tomorrow is going to be normal? Or did I just take it, like I thought I did, and Vexen said I had some hearing deficiencies? "Hearing deficiencies" - is that some sort of euphemism for "partly deaf"?_

But he only vaguely remembered curling up on the floor and starting to cry.

* * *

 

_Food_

Demyx had always been a bit of a puzzle to Roxas. He didn't actively dislike the musician, he was always just...a bit of a loner, apparently. Not in the same way as Zexion, who apparently hated humanity in general and wanted as little to do with it as possible. Demyx was friendly - no denying that - and could be quite talkative if someone else initiated conversation, but he didn't go out of his way to socialize. Of course, when Roxas first met him, he'd had an arm in a sling and wasn't on active duty in the first place, and within a week of his going back on duty, he and Axel had been sent off to New Orleans, precipitating a long fiasco. And after coming back from that, he'd been sick for a week. Most of what Roxas knew about him was from reputation and what little he'd seen in New Orleans - he was friendly, smiled a lot, bit of an oddball, abnormally emotional, didn't like trouble, hated fighting, and loved music, and supposedly he and Axel had been pretty close once upon a time. That always made Roxas wonder whether his arrival had upset some sort of delicate balance, pushed the two of them apart somehow, because Axel didn't seem to pay all that much attention to Demyx.

Like now, for instance. The musician, sitting just on the other side of Axel, had obviously been crying about something, judging from his red face and puffy eyes, and Axel didn't seem to notice; he was focused completely on the food in front of him. Well, Axel ate like a starved animal, but boy, was he being oblivious...

Roxas sighed as Axel scooped himself up another helping of potatoes, and wondered if he was deliberately ignoring the Melodious Nocturne for some reason. "Demyx looks pretty cut up about something; I wonder what's eating him," he said in a conversational tone.

"Huh?" Axel set his plate down and looked around, as if he didn't have any idea who Roxas was talking about, much less what; apparently he really _was_ that oblivious. Roxas wanted to smack him. "Oh...Demyx...hey...you look pretty upset; what's up?" he asked, as if Roxas hadn't prompted him.

Demyx glanced up from his dinner. "'Scuse me, what?"

"I said, you look pretty upset. What's up?"

Demyx shrugged and tried to smile. "Oh. Nothing. I didn't even know I looked upset." He scrubbed experimentally at his face, which only made it redder. "I'm fine."

"Okay." Axel shrugged and went back to eating his dinner. "Bullshit," he muttered to Roxas.

"What do you think is up with him?" Roxas asked quietly.

Axel shrugged again. "I dunno. Maybe nothing. I don't quite get the way he works - he's the most emotional out of any of us by a long shot, though that's not saying much; maybe just being able to sort of feel without a heart does weird things to his head sometimes. I'm not the expert in this shit, but I kinda suspect that's not the case. Whatever it is, he's not gonna share it at the dinner table. Can you reach the basket of rolls?"

Roxas handed him a roll. What he remembered about how emotions were supposed to work could be wadded up and stuffed into a thimble with enough room left over for a dozen poppy seeds and a few ground-up petals from the poppy itself. Then he started thinking about how Marluxia would react to that analogy, and forgot about Demyx's emotional state.

* * *

 

_Test_

  
Demyx wondered what the hell was going on, and was afraid he wouldn't like the answer if he knew. After a repeat of yesterday's hearing test with the headphones and button-pushing, which didn't seem a bit different than it had last time, Vexen popped a headband over his head, strapped this little whatsit to the bony lump behind his right ear, and started the whole thing over again. It was kind of an odd sensation, with that little thing vibrating behind his ear, but he was able to hear just as well from it as he had been from the headphones. And at least Vexen had quit sticking things in his ears.

"I gotta ask - what's the point of doing this twice?" he finally said when it was over. It seemed a comparatively safe question, until Vexen answered it.

"The first air-conduction test was to establish thresholds at various frequencies for both ears. The second air-conduction test was primarily to confirm previous results. The bone-conduction test is to determine the source of hearing loss - whether the cause is damage to the outer ear or eardrum, or to the inner ear or auditory nerve."

_Oh, okay. Makes sense._

_Wait._

_Hearing loss. Not possible hearing loss. Not even probable hearing loss. He just said hearing loss._

_Oh no. No. No, no, no! NO! It can't be true! It can't be possible! I can't be going deaf! I'm only eighteen - I'm a musician - I have to be able to hear - I can't live without hearing the music -_

Demyx wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. He wanted to curl up on the floor and bawl like a baby. He wanted to throw Vexen's stupid little testing device across the room or out the window or into the nearest body of water or at Vexen's head. He wanted to run out of the room and find the deepest, darkest hole in the worlds and hide in it and never come out. He wanted to play himself one last song and die as soon as it was over so he'd never have to live without music.

Instead, he sat there quietly and pretended he was every bit as emotionless as a good Nobody was supposed to be and submitted to Vexen's absurd repeat-after-me games and allowed Vexen to repeat them while one ear or the other was getting blasted with static and listened patiently while Vexen explained that he had some form of sensorineural hearing loss and he'd lost 25 decibels in the right ear and 22 decibels in the left ear and there was no way to know what had caused it right now but it was worth worrying about - and he tried to ignore the sensation like a thousand little sharp claws tearing at his guts. He even cooperated without question as Vexen led him out of the testing room and into a different little room, sat him down in a chair that had an extra arm across it so he couldn't get out by himself, and proceeded to draw four or five tubes of blood.

It wasn't until Vexen had bandaged the little hole in his elbow and let him out of the chair and kept an eye on him for a few minutes to make sure he wouldn't faint and finally let him go back to his own room - when he was back safely in his own room, he let out one wail of despair and collapsed, sobbing uncontrollably.

* * *

 

_Night_

  
All Axel really wanted to do was sleep. Living next door to Demyx, though, sometimes made that impossible. Usually, it was because the musician had lost track of time while playing sitar or listening to his stereo. That didn't seem to be the case tonight. Instead of loud rock music, or classical music, or sitar music, or any type of music...he heard whimpering. Sobbing. Occasional soft cries, like cries of pain or fright.

Axel sighed. The doofus must have been having a nightmare. Instead of going and pounding on Demyx's door, yelling at him to pack it in before he came in there and made him shut up, and going back to bed, he quietly opened Demyx's bathroom door and took a look inside, summoning a small fire to light the room. Demyx stirred and sat up as he lit the fire. "Ax?...What are you doing in here?"

"Checking up on you. What were you pitching a fit about?"

Demyx blinked. "...What?"

"I said, what were you pitching a fit about? You were crying and yelling in your sleep; whatever it was, it must have been pretty intense. You even kept me from sleeping."

Even in the firelight, Demyx turned noticeably red. "Oh...I'm sorry...I didn't know I was doing that."

Axel sighed and shook his head. "What were you dreaming about that left you in a mess like that?" he asked quietly.

"Huh?"

Axel took a few steps closer. "What were you dreaming about?"

Demyx sighed and shook his head. "I don't remember now. Kind of forgot as soon as I woke up."

"Well, that's kind of a letdown..." Axel shrugged. "Oh well. We might as well go back to bed. Try to get some decent sleep this time." Demyx nodded, settled back, and pulled the covers up, but his eyes remained wide open. That probably doesn't bode well, Axel thought, but he unsummoned the fire and returned to his own room.

And couldn't sleep a wink. Once he was lying in his own bed, he could close his eyes for as long as he wanted, but he stayed wide awake nonetheless, tossing and turning and wondering what the hell was the matter with him now. _Dammit, Demyx...I didn't know insomnia was contagious...I have an early mission tomorrow; I can't stay awake all night, not if I want to actually complete the mission and come back safely - and not getting torn limb from limb by the Superior's killer attack dog for botching the job counts as part of "safely"..._

Eventually Axel gave up on sleep for a while and wandered down to the kitchen, looking for something that might help him sleep. Demyx was already down there, staring into a cup of hot chocolate. He glanced up as Axel brushed past him on his way to the refrigerator. "Sorry if I woke you up again," he murmured.

Axel shook his head as he started putting together a sandwich. "Nah. I just couldn't get to sleep; I don't know why."

"Ah." Demyx nodded, but Axel wasn't sure how much of what he said got through, if any. Demyx's mind seemed to be having trouble shifting out of "Park" recently. Maybe it was lack of sleep. Well, if it was, the best cures for insomnia were generally found in the kitchen.


	2. Part 2

_Puzzle_

  
"If I may be so bold as to ask, Four, why in Kingdom Hearts's name have you ordered so many different blood tests on Nine? What, pray tell, are you suspecting is wrong with him? Especially as he seems perfectly healthy, at least in a physical sense?"

Vexen didn't turn to look at Zexion, just continued to examine the printouts from the various analyzers. "Nine has suddenly presented with a puzzling neurological disorder whose etiology is thus far unknown but which may be a symptom of a far more serious underlying condition. As long as it was convenient, I thought it as well to cover all the bases."

Zexion was less than impressed, especially since he'd been the one running all the various analyzers and performing the manual tests the analyzers couldn't handle. "Puzzling neurological disorder. If he's not presenting with grand mal seizures, I think you're overreacting. Especially as I can't find a clinically significant result in all of this testing with a bloodhound and a metal detector." He rubbed at his microscope-abused eyes. "His blood chemistry is all within normal values. His erythrocyte sedimentation rate is perfectly normal, as are his PT and PTT results. His CBC has come up with entirely normal results. I don't know if you were hoping to find an anemia or a leukemia, but I can state with a great deal of certainty that he has neither. Not so much as a leukemoid reaction or lymphocytosis that might be related to infection. Kingdom Hearts alone knows why you ordered the VDRL and Lyme titer, but both of them are clean. Are you going to want to perform a bone marrow aspiration now, or would you rather start with a lumbar puncture and CSF analysis?"

Vexen stared at him like he'd just sprouted a third arm. "...Are you finished yet?"

"That is an excellent question, Four. Are _you_ finished yet, or would you prefer I started looking for signs of HIV or HCV infection?" Zexion slumped into the nearest chair. "If he has a neurological disorder, why didn't you start with an EEG?"

Vexen set one sheaf of printouts aside and started reading the next. "Because I have reason to believe the origin of the problem is not within the brain itself."

Zexion nodded wearily. "That eliminates seizures." _And I have a strong suspicion you just wasted a great deal of my time_ , he added silently. He'd have had more trouble thinking of things he wouldn't rather do than complete blood counts with differential than things he would rather do. He wanted to go straight back to the library, lock himself in, and let Vexen complete his own ridiculous tests. "Whatever the underlying problem is, assuming this 'puzzling neurological disorder' is not purely idiopathic, it's not something that can be determined from blood samples."

"This cannot be purely idiopathic. Nothing is purely idiopathic." Zexion groaned. "There must be an underlying cause. Thus far, we've eliminated numerous possibilities."

_Wasted my time, your time, and Nine's time, you mean._ "Four, it might help a great deal if I were to have some idea what this 'puzzling neurological disorder' was."

Vexen hesitated for a long moment. "As of right now, it may be just as well to keep you in the dark, in order to eliminate examiner bias in one direction or another. The condition may resolve on its own."

_Meaning you'd rather play the high, mighty, omniscient doctor than go one step out of your way to help anyone help you. If that's the case, you don't especially need a laboratory scientist, do you._ Zexion stood up and walked out the door, leaving a very confused Vexen and carrying a deep urge to find out exactly what was the matter with Demyx.

* * *

 

_Annoyance_

  
"I'm sorry, dude - you want me to do what?"

"Nine needs to be removed from active duty for the next three days, and this is not to be made public. I do have a valid medical reason for this request, but I cannot share it at this time."

Xigbar looked at Vexen like he'd just told him to let a small child play with his guns. "...Excuse me? You want me to take an apparently healthy member off duty and you don't think there's any good reason to tell me why?"

Vexen, as usual, remained cool as ice. "Note the usage of the words 'apparently healthy'. He is, to all outside observers, the picture of health, but he has recently developed a puzzling condition which I am still in the process of diagnosing and determining an appropriate treatment for."

Xigbar was something less than impressed. "Puzzling condition. Mind telling me what sort of puzzling condition? Just so I know exactly why I'm supposed to be leaving us one man short for the near future?"

Vexen hesitated. "...Due to patient confidentiality concerns, I'm not at liberty to share that information unless and until Nine gives his informed consent."

Xigbar sighed heavily. "So you want me to take him off duty just on your say-so, and you don't think you need to tell me why you say so. Dude, you've got balls, but it's not gonna happen any time soon. As far as I can tell, he's fit for duty, so as far as I can see, he should stay on duty. Now, unless you're gonna be a little more forthcoming from here on out, I think we're done here."

"This condition may adversely affect his ability to carry out his missions successfully."

Xigbar, who'd been halfway to the door, paused and backed up a few steps without turning around. "You got my full attention, dude. How's it gonna affect his ability to carry out his missions successfully?"

"It may cause him substantial difficulty in interacting with others."

"Difficulty in interacting with others - oh, that's just fantastic," Xigbar groaned. "That's the one thing he's better at than the rest of us. So what's going on, dude? Is he going deaf? Going blind? Losing his voice? Losing his sanity? Is he developing PTSD after his stint in New Orleans?"

"As I stated previously, I'm not at liberty to share that information until Nine gives his informed consent."

_Urge to kill Vexen...rising._ "Dude! If you want me to cooperate, you might wanna try cooperating a little yourself!"

"Two, this is only for three days. That's all I'm asking for. Surely you can spare one man for three days."

"Going by just what you gave me? Doesn't look like much reason for me -"

"He would be operating at reduced efficiency if he were on duty during that time."

Xigbar sighed. Clearly Vexen was in one of those "Don't question me, I know I'm right" moods. "Fine. I'll let him go for three days. But after three days, either he's going back on regular duty or you better have a little more to tell me than you do now."

* * *

 

_Last Hope_

  
"...had a mission yet this week, you lucky bastard."

Demyx half-smiled; he'd heard enough to get the gist of what Axel was saying. "I wouldn't consider myself lucky. The reason I haven't been getting sent on missions is because they've had me busting my ass here." Busting his ass, having Vexen fiddling with his ears, nose, throat, eyes, etcetera, virtually nonstop, but Axel didn't need to know that.

Axel winced visibly. "Ohh. Not so lucky, then. That's tough." He turned to his other side and started talking to Roxas about something; Demyx couldn't make out most of what they were saying, but it probably didn't concern him. He'd always sort of been on the outside of their conversations anyway...

He sighed and shook his head. He was done with his breakfast, and Vexen would want to see him now. He left his dishes by the sink, left Axel and Roxas talking about whatever they were talking about, and headed for Vexen's lab for another round of getting his head picked apart.

"All right, I know you're trying to help me here -" _or at least I assume you are -_ "but what exactly is all this stuff for? I mean, messing with my ears, I could understand - I think I've been spending more time hooked up to that audiometer than to my MP3 player lately - but looking at my eyes, my throat, bending my neck every which way, testing my balance three or four different ways every day - what's it all looking for?"

"Attempting to deter-...-ing cause for this hearing loss," Vexen said, as if he thought Demyx should have known that already. Whatever it was he said. Normally he kept his voice at a volume where Demyx could hear him pretty well, but sometimes he slipped.

"Oh..." Demyx thought he said something like "determine an underlying cause", but didn't feel like asking and making sure. He definitely didn't see what most of what Vexen was doing might have to do with why he had to turn the volume up and ask people to repeat themselves all the time. "So what do you think the problem is?"

"That...I have been unable to determine thus far. And that concerns me greatly. I have, however, elimi-...-ous possibilities."

Demyx sighed. "Well, that's comforting..." I think...

"Not necessarily..." Vexen started looking over a sheet of paper and muttering to himself. Demyx tried to pick out what he was saying, with limited success. "Meni-...-perience drop att-...-bvious and severe...acous-...-oma would also prod-...-bular disturb-...-ably cause unilat-...-tient history of aut-...disease, but one might devel-...-aneously...no other sym-...teral hearing loss...-ven tinnitus...-tern doesn't match...find in pure-...related loss, and...pect to find sub...Prednisone. If it helps, it helps. If it doesn't, I suspect nothing will."

Demyx blinked. "What's prednisone?"

"A corticosteroid medication frequently used to treat patients with autoimmune disorders."

"Do you...think that's what's wrong with me?"

"Having eliminated virtually every other poss-...not unlikely. Excuse me for a moment." Vexen teleported away and returned some minutes later with a bottle of pills and a few sheets of paper, which he handed over to Demyx. "Dosage instructions and possible side effects. Read those carefully, and follow the dos-...-tions to the letter. If you have any sudden attacks of severe vertigo or unexplained nausea, or your hearing suddenly worsens, come see me immediately, even if...mission at the time."

Demyx slowly walked back to his own room, reading the sheets as he went. Some of the listed side effects made him gulp. But if it could restore his hearing...

* * *

 

_Insanity_

  
Axel thought he had a better idea of why Demyx was acting so weird lately. He didn't know exactly what it was, but he suspected it was illegal in most civilized worlds. It almost had to be illegal where he came from. And whatever it was, it was fucking him up badly. It all fit together so disturbingly well - the seemingly constant insomnia, that bug-eyed look, the weakness, the lethargy, the shaking hands, the apparently causeless injuries, the bizarre mood swings, the suddenly grinning like an idiot at the weirdest times, the general sense that Demyx wasn't really clued in to what was going on around him...it probably even had something to do with the fact that it looked like he was gaining and losing weight at the same time, with his increasingly round face and belly and increasingly bony arms and legs. Axel wanted to hit himself for not figuring it out earlier - he lived right next door, for Kingdom Hearts's sake!

Whatever he was on, it wasn't doing him any favors; it hadn't taken him and Roxas too long to agree on that. They'd taken turns keeping an eye on him for two weeks, hoping to catch him in the act so they'd have something concrete to accuse him of, though they hadn't caught him at anything yet - maybe he only used it while on missions. Heck, maybe he'd found it on a mission. Whatever it was, someone had to get him to stop doing it, and soon. Which is why Axel was following him down the hallway, listening in as Demyx clutched at his head and muttered to himself. "Leave me alone; I didn't invite you in..." he pleaded to someone invisible - someone who probably existed only in his own mind. "I wish you'd go away...wherever you came from, go back! Stop it!" he shouted, then fell to the ground, sobbing quietly. "What, you want me to shoot myself or something? No. I'm not gonna do it. Not even to get rid of you."

Axel, trying to keep out of sight, was confused, disturbed, and above all horrified. Maybe he's not melting his brain with drugs, he realized. Maybe his brain's melting down all by itself. Knowing full well that he was doing what could possibly be the stupidest thing he'd ever done, he took a few careful steps closer. "Demyx? Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

Demyx didn't seem to hear him. He sat up, still clutching his head, not looking in Axel's direction. "Stop talking. I'd rather not hear at all than have to listen to you. This isn't worth it," he murmured to the voice in his head.

"What's not worth it?" If Demyx heard him at all, he didn't respond. Axel leaned down and touched his shoulder. "Demyx?"

Axel's head actually bounced off the wall from the force of the blow. He slid to the ground, with the world spinning around him, while Demyx stood over him with one fist clenched and a murderous look in his eye. _Kingdom Hearts...who are you, what did you do with the real Demyx, and how can we get him back? You're fuckin' insane!_ "What...the hell...was that for?" he gasped.

For what seemed like an eternity, Demyx didn't respond, just stood there looking like he'd break Axel's head open if he so much as breathed too deeply. Then suddenly his contorted face relaxed a little, and he lowered and unclenched his fist, as if suddenly coming back to his senses. "Oh...I...I didn't know..." He went from enraged to horrified in a matter of seconds. "Axel...I am so sorry..." he whispered, then took off at a run, leaving Axel slumped against the wall waiting for his head to stop spinning.

Even after the world had sorted itself out and was holding still like it should, he didn't stand up, for more reasons than to spare his aching head. _Do I go tell Xigbar he just tried to bust my skull, or tell Vexen he just had a psychotic episode? Tell Xigbar and get the little nutbar in trouble, or tell Vexen and maybe get the poor guy some help?_

When he put it that way, there wasn't much choice. He staggered upright and summoned a portal, clutching his pounding head. "Hey, Vexen...there is something seriously wrong with Demyx's head..."

* * *

 

_Seeking Solace_

  
Demyx took a deep breath before knocking on the door. He hadn't come close enough to talk to Axel in days - not surprisingly; if their positions had been reversed, he wouldn't even want to be in the same building as Axel. In fact, if he'd caught Axel in the hallway discussing suicide with the voices in his head, he'd have turned around and run, and not waited to get socked in the face before getting Vexen, Lexaeus, and Xaldin to chase him down and "escort" him back to Vexen's lab. Though Axel probably would have been dragged off seriously fighting and probably throwing fire around, not just screaming in panic and trying to wriggle free.

That had been so horrible, so terrifying...and so humiliating, coming back into line with reality and finding himself under armed guard and physical restraint...

There was a muffled response on the other side of the door; Demyx couldn't make out a word. He knocked again, louder, and Axel opened the door this time, sporting a massive black eye that was starting to turn green and yellow around the edges. He took a wary step back when he saw who it was. "Do you want something?" he asked, ready to slam the door in Demyx's face if he didn't like the answer.

"Yeah...um..." Demyx stood there for what seemed like an eternity, with Axel staring at him, as he tried to get his voice to work again. He remembered all too well the mocking tone of the voice - Oh, guess who you just punched out? That was Axel! "I...wanted to...apologize for...what happened." Axel nodded cautiously. "It's not...gonna happen again...I swear..." It was - hopefully - true; Vexen was weaning him off the prednisone as quickly as possible, but the redhead looked doubtful. "And, um...thanks for telling Vexen what was going on, instead of...anyone else." Dammit, why couldn't he say a whole sentence at a time? "And...thanks for not just slamming the door on me. I'll leave you alone now."

He turned to go, but Axel caught his shoulder. "Wait a second - what...going on? What was that?"

Demyx stood still for a long moment, wondering what to say. A little voice that came from nowhere suddenly barged in and tried to cloud his mind and take over his thoughts? That's what it felt like to him... He'd had an extremely rare medication-related psychotic episode, as Vexen put it? Well, Axel could probably figure that out for himself, except for the medication-related part... He'd been taking a drug with a laundry list of godawful side effects in an effort to preserve and maybe even restore his hearing? No...he couldn't say that...he didn't want anyone to know...he wanted everyone to think he could still hear normally...he wanted to hear normally...but the prednisone hadn't done a thing except fuck him up royally; it hadn't restored a single decibel in either ear, his hearing had actually gotten a little worse...

He shook his head. "I'm a fuckin' mess." Then he started to cry. _Great, way to convince him I'm a little saner now..._

Axel sighed and dragged him into the room. "Get your messed-up ass in here, then." While Demyx was still trying to figure out what was going on, Axel sat him down on the bed and stood there looking at him. "All right...Demyx - what the hell is going on with you?" Demyx couldn't say anything; he just sat there opening and closing his mouth like a fish. When Axel sat down next to him, unzipped his robe, and peeled it off his stick-thin arms, he couldn't do anything about it; he felt paralyzed. "Okay, what is this?" the redhead asked, pointing to the little red mark left from his last round of blood tests.

_Kingdom Hearts...he thinks it's an injection mark...he thinks I'm on drugs..._ That only made Demyx cry harder. "It...not...what it looks like...I swear..." He tried his barely-coherent best to explain to Axel what was going on, without sharing any information he didn't want anyone else to know. It wasn't exactly successful, but at least he might have convinced Axel he wasn't shooting himself up with weird shit.

If so, his new impression wasn't much more accurate. "You mean that..." It was probably just as well Demyx couldn't hear what Axel thought Vexen was. "...been using you to experiment on?! Is that why...missions lately?! They've been...for a guinea pig?!"

"No..." Demyx shook his head, unable to continue. He felt so terrified, and helpless, and alone, and humiliated by this breakdown, and ashamed he'd turned into a complete emotional wreck when he couldn't feel any emotions at all, that was how weak he was, getting knocked for six by emotions he didn't even have, or shouldn't...

Axel draped a blanket over his shoulders and handed him a shot glass containing something amber that burned like fire on its way down. "You looked...needed that. Still do."

"Oh..." Demyx didn't know what to think, now that he obviously wasn't about to be kicked out into the hallway. "Thanks, Ax."

* * *

 

_Mirror_

  
_Hi, my name is Demyx,_ he mouthed silently to the mirror, watching every detail of the way his lips, teeth, and tongue moved. He wasn't trying to teach himself to read lips because he was afraid of going totally deaf. He wasn't going to lose all his hearing, even if the world had been getting a decibel or two quieter every week; he just couldn't lose it all. But it seemed like a cool talent to have, and it might help him out when he was trying to talk to someone and couldn't quite hear everything they said...which wasn't happening all that often...really...

_My name is Demyx, and I play sitar._ The differences between mouth shapes for letter sounds could be so subtle - between p and b, for instance...he had to get those down cold, had to get every little nuance perfectly straight, until reading lips was as effortless and intuitive as reading books or reading music. He knew he wasn't the brightest crayon in the box when it came to memorizing anything but music and lyrics, which is why he spent every second of free time he had practicing in front of the mirror. He thought he was pretty competent at reading his own lips, but he always knew exactly what he was saying, and it was way more important to be able to read someone else's lips...

_I am Number Nine of Organization Thirteen, and I control water..._ He was so focused on what he was doing that he must not have heard the knock on the door. He and Axel both got a big surprise when the door opened.

"What are you (doing in) here? Didn't you hear (...knocking...) bonehead?"

Reading Axel's lips, he could fill in some of the gaps when he couldn't make out the words just by listening, though he still lost words here and there. Demyx smiled involuntarily. "Hi, Ax. Sorry, I was kind of distracted."

Axel looked unimpressed. "Distracted doing... (Talk...the voi)ces in your head?"

"Why would I want to talk to them? They're nuts...I was teaching myself to read lips."

(You really have...) Demyx didn't hear a thing; apparently Axel had only been mouthing the words, not intending for him to hear, but he'd still been able to pick out the first few words. He wondered what he really had. "If you can inter (rupt...) -sons for a few minutes, I (...of...) to use the bathroom."

Demyx was too elated to care he was treading on dangerous ground. "For what, jacking off?"

Axel glared at him. "Get out of here."

"Fine, fine...Just clean up after yourself when you're done..." He suddenly found himself shoved out his bathroom door, and the door slammed behind him. He didn't care - it worked, or at least it was starting to work; he'd been able to fill in a few blanks, at least. All that practice in front of the mirror was starting to pay off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it has nasty side effects, Demyx will probably get them.


	3. Part 3

_No Way Out_

  
"So what's the damage to date?" _Besides my reputation, my self-esteem, my dignity, and a decent-sized chunk of my sanity?_

Vexen examined the latest pair of audiometry graphs grimly. "Approximately 36 decibels in each ear. Which is a l(oss of about) 12 decibels in five weeks."

Demyx sighed heavily. After over a month, he'd - almost - resigned himself to the fact that he'd never be able to hear as well as he used to. But every time Vexen tested his hearing again, and he hoped it would at least be the same as it was last time, it kept getting worse and worse, a little more every week. It was becoming increasingly difficult for him to pretend everything was normal, but the worse his hearing loss grew, the more desperate he was to keep everyone else from knowing. He'd never given Vexen permission to share what was going on with anyone for just that reason, even when he'd had a psychiatric meltdown because of the medication he'd been put on briefly - very briefly.

_Why? Why can't I admit it? I don't know...I just can't..._

He blinked hard and tried to ignore that heavy, painful sensation in his chest that seemed far too much like real grief. "And you still have no idea what's causing it?"

"Considering the prednisone had (no effect what)soever...the complete lack of any other symptoms...and the unav(ailability of any) sort of family history...it doesn't fit the usual pattern, but I begin to suspect the...-lated."

Demyx sighed. Great time for Vexen to turn his head. "You begin to suspect the what?"

"I suspect the loss is noise-related."

"Oh..." Demyx stared up at the ceiling, trying to think what loud noises he'd been exposed to recently enough to kick off this whole chain of misery, and that would have been serious enough to slowly drain away his hearing long after the fact. Maybe that horrible storm in New Orleans...the wind had been strong enough to almost tear his clothes off; maybe it had damaged his ears somehow...

Vexen was talking again. "...likely culprit, in your case."

Demyx straightened up and paid more attention. "Sorry, what's the likely culprit?"

"Repeated prolonged exposure to music. Causing your hearing loss."

"...Oh..." Demyx said in a voice not even he could hear. Some Heartless somewhere was busy wondering why its stolen heart had just shattered like a dropped glass. "I...guess...that makes...sense...excuse me. I really need to go." He stood up and stumbled out of the lab, without waiting for Vexen's permission. Instead of going back to his own room, he wandered the endless white hallways, never quite aware of where he was, or even who or what. All he knew was, it was the music. The music was destroying his hearing.

By the time he somehow found himself back in his own room, his thought process had partially reengaged, though that wasn't necessarily a good thing. It enabled him to think a little more clearly, but he didn't necessarily want to.

He couldn't survive not being able to hear music.

Therefore, he couldn't survive not being able to hear, period.

If the music really was destroying his ability to hear - if a few more fractions of a decibel were bleeding away every time he played sitar or turned the stereo on - maybe, if he stopped listening to music, he'd be able to preserve the rest of his hearing indefinitely.

But if he had to give up music to keep himself from going completely deaf...well, he might as well go completely deaf anyway; what was the point of being able to hear if he couldn't listen to music?

It was like being given the choice to either give up his sitar forever, or continue to play it for a few months, at the end of which his hands would be cut off. Worse, actually. More like choosing between being paralyzed from the neck down for life or dying in a few months. No, it was even worse than that. More like choosing whether to give up his soul now and still be able to hear, or give up both his soul and his ability to hear in a few months.

_If I can't feel emotions...if I can't be sad or afraid or anything...why do I want to die instead of make this choice?_

* * *

 

_Smile_

  
_I don't think Axel was right._ The redhead who normally sat between the two during meals was gone on a mission, so Roxas had a clear view of Demyx two seats down. _I don't think he's getting better. I think whatever was wrong with him is just as wrong with him as ever._ Sure, the bug-eyed stare was gone, his hands were steadier, his appearance was more-or-less back to normal, and he seemed stronger and more aware of what was going on around him. But his wildly changing mood was now stuck on "depressed", there were always dark circles under his eyes, and he hadn't smiled in days. _Axel never did fully explain what was going on with him, or maybe he didn't know for sure...though I think if he started hearing voices again, someone would have said something...assuming they knew..._

_Maybe I should ask him...it's not like he's going to maul me like Saix would...well, sure, he knocked Axel's lights out, but he was off his rocker at the time..._

_I don't get it...I thought he was supposed to be pretty upbeat by default...that's how he seemed to me, even while he was stuck with a broken shoulder...even after he'd been lost in New Orleans for days...but ever since he came back, he's kinda been on a slow downward spiral...though I guess hearing voices could do that to you, but it started a lot earlier than that...I wish Axel was here to talk to..._

_Why do I care? Scratch that - I guess I can't really care - why am I pretending to care? I barely know him personally..._

_Does anyone else notice there's anything wrong with him?_ Roxas glanced around the kitchen - apparently not that also cared. Not even Vexen seemed bothered, even though he must have known - his attention was fully wrapped up in an argument with Xigbar.

Roxas sighed and turned his attention back to his dinner. _I'll talk to him when I'm done eating. If I tried now, I don't think I'd get anywhere._ He finished quickly, then sat around doing nothing for several minutes, pretending to pay no heed to the depressed Melodious Nocturne, who was only picking listlessly at his own food. Even after Demyx gave up, scraped his plate into the garbage, and left his dishes by the sink, Roxas stayed put for a minute, just so it wouldn't be obvious he was following him.

When he caught up, the musician was fumbling with his keys, struggling to unlock his door. As Roxas watched, he snapped the key off in the lock, dropped the rest of it, and leaned against the door, looking like he was trying not to burst into tears. He was surprised when Oathkeeper dealt with the reluctant lock in about two seconds. "You looked like you could use some help," Roxas offered by way of explanation.

Demyx stared at him like he'd never seen him before. Then, gradually, he started to smile. "Thanks. I...guess I did." He chuckled nervously. "Pretty slick of me there...can't figure out a lock I've been using for years..."

Roxas shrugged. "Well, it's not like you haven't been having a tough time lately. No surprise if you're kind of distracted."

Demyx froze for a second, then smiled again, except this time it was obviously fake. "Oh...I guess you picked up on that...yeah...I've been having some...trouble lately."

"What kind of trouble?" Roxas asked in a purely conversational tone. He noticed the musician's eyes never left his face when he spoke, though it didn't seem odd or creepy for some reason. It probably should have, but it didn't.

Demyx half-smiled this time. "Medical trouble." He bent over and picked up the keyring he'd dropped earlier. "Psychiatric trouble, as you've probably heard from Axel already." By the time he straightened up, the half-smile was gone.

Roxas nodded reluctantly. "Yeah. He did tell me about that. That was the ugliest black eye I've ever seen...couldn't even see his tattoo..."

"And you're still willing to get within arm's length?" Demyx smiled again, but this time, it looked more than a little sad. "You're braver than I would be. Aren't you scared I'm going to start hearing voices telling me to break your face?"

"According to Axel, you and the voices didn't get along too well, so no. I don't think you'd listen to them if they did."

After a long moment of disbelieving silence, Demyx gave him the most genuine smile of the night. "Well...thanks. I appreciate the help."

Roxas smiled back. "Anytime."

* * *

 

_Sacrifice_

  
It was easily the most difficult thing Demyx had ever had to do - give up his precious music in the hopes of salvaging what was left of his hearing. As far as his sanity went, it was almost as bad as the prednisone. But - he reminded himself every time he wanted to break down, turn the stereo on, summon his sitar - it had to be done. If his hearing continued to go downhill, not only would he not be able to hear music anyway, he'd be totally unable to function. He tried to forget the dull, extra-empty feeling in his chest, like a permanent heart attack - or like he was losing his soul too. He pretended not to care when the other members - or at least the other members who weren't scared to go near him after his publicized mental breakdown - treated him like he wasn't exactly all there, or like he couldn't hear anything that was going on around him. Well, he certainly couldn't hear _all_ of it, but he wasn't completely deaf yet. Axel and Roxas, the only ones who'd still go near him and didn't treat him like an idiot, seemed to think he'd suddenly turned to glass or something, possibly with the help of mind-altering substances - which conclusion he resented immensely, but he couldn't find it within himself to blame them. And Vexen, the only one who knew the whole story - well, they didn't call him the Iceman just because of his element.

"It shouldn't hurt," he whispered to himself. "None of this should hurt...I shouldn't be able to feel it...but why can I? Why does it hurt?"

"Are you talking to me, to...the voices in your head?"

Demyx sighed heavily, taking a break from staring out the window to look down at Axel. "You might be happy to know that there aren't any voices in my head for me to talk to, and haven't been for some time."

"I can live...-parently they were bastards anyway. So I'll ass-...talking to yourself there."

"Yeah. I kinda was." Demyx sighed and turned back to the window; Axel was looking at the television screen, not at him, so there wasn't much hope of reading his lips.

Axel snorted. "Well, sorry for eavesdropping."

Demyx would really have preferred not to be there. He didn't have any business in Roxas's room, and he felt stupid hanging around with nothing to do, especially while Roxas himself was out of the room. But they didn't let him excuse himself and go; they always found some reason why he should stay that sounded valid at the time, even though he knew they really wanted to keep an eye on him because they thought he was shooting himself up with bizarre chemicals every time they had their backs turned. Which was insulting, humiliating, and demeaning, but the alternative was being completely alone. So he put up with this well-meaning ill-treatment, just for the sake of a little companionship. It was much easier than giving up music to save the rest of his hearing. Kingdom Hearts, he missed it so much...

"What's wrong?"

Demyx swallowed hard, choking a little on the lump in his throat. "Nothing."

"Nothing, my ass. Nothing doesn't make...crying randomly." Demyx didn't have the energy or motivation for an argument. He just rolled off the bed onto the floor and lay there, staring at the ceiling. Axel turned around and glared at him. "What the hell('s the matter) with you anyway? Break your stereo?" Demyx shook his head, but didn't comment further. Axel shrugged and continued setting up the video game before Roxas got back. Demyx ignored him.

Eventually, he realized he was humming to himself.

_No...I can't do that...I have to stop...otherwise I'm gonna want to turn my stereo on...get my sitar out...ruin everything again..._

"...finally back."

"Not a second too soon! Did you have to go...get it?"

"Xaldin had a spear up...or something. Didn't want...the kitchen." Roxas was suddenly leaning over him, offering him ice cream. "Demyx? You okay?"

Demyx nodded and accepted the ice cream. Maybe the cold would numb the emptiness a little. __

* * *

_Dark_

Sometimes, he just couldn't take it anymore.

Right now, for instance. He'd returned hours late from a mission he'd almost botched completely - his first real mission since his breakdown, worse luck - because he had trouble understanding what people said. If he hadn't finally confessed to the world's inhabitants, admitted that he had trouble hearing and they'd have to speak loudly and clearly so he could understand them, he would have botched it, and having to admit his handicap to succeed - well, it hurt his pride. Not like he had much of that left. He certainly hadn't admitted it to Saix - the dressing-down he'd received had been bad enough and then some without being able to hear all of it. The worst part, though, was the look Axel and Roxas had given him immediately afterward - the "you've been getting high again, haven't you" look. Sometimes he wanted to grab them both by the collars and give them a good shake and yell "I'm not a fuckin' druggie, okay?! I don't DO that shit!" until they got the message.

Of course, if he did that, what impression would they get? That he was losing his mind without the assistance of drugs. Which he was. He just wasn't going clinically insane. Yet.

And it didn't help that once he got back to his room - when he would have liked nothing better than to sit down on a pillow and play sitar until he felt a little less like nothing, or flop on the bed with the stereo on and let the music wash his troubles away - he couldn't. He didn't even have the reassurance of knowing that avoiding music was halting his hearing loss - the results of his last audiometry test had been "inconclusive", as Vexen put it; a little worse than before, but not so much worse it couldn't have been a slight variation on the audiometer's part.

So instead of letting music heal that empty hole which seemed to be taking over his whole chest, Demyx just stood there in the dark room and stared out the window, watching without interest as a pair of Dusks wandered past on patrol.

_Dusks are so lucky. They're not smart enough to worry about anything. They don't have to deal with shit like this. He sighed and looked down at his feet. Maybe it would have been better if I'd been created a Dusk. Blind instead of deaf. Mindless instead of stupid. No useful hands instead of just no use at all._

_Fuck, I'm no more than a Dusk already, I'm just smart enough to know it._

Well, why not? He slid thick rubber bands over his hands, forcing them into an odd spindle shape that approximated a Dusk's hands. The headband he wore for bone-conduction tests went over his eyes, with some difficulty. Then...well, that was it. He just stood there, blind, partly deaf, with useless hands, and no real idea what was going on around him.

_Like the lowest of the low. Only I know it._

Dark wet spots started to appear on the front of the headband, but he didn't realize it. _If I have to be nothing, why do I have to be aware of it?_

* * *

 

_Under the Rain_

  
Demyx could swear he died a little inside every time he took the audiometer headphones off. "So...what's the damage to date?" he asked dully.

"43 decibels (in the left ear, 42) in the right." Reading lips was getting easier all the time, which was good, because hearing speech definitely wasn't. And fortunately, Vexen generally kept his face in sight, so Demyx actually could read his lips. "Apparently, aban(doning your musical pur)suits has done nothing (to halt the) progression."

Demyx sighed heavily. Three weeks of putting himself through hell - not playing sitar, not listening to his stereo, trying not to even hum to himself, lest he be tempted - and for nothing. He was still slowly going deaf. "Is there - anything else -" He didn't know if he wanted to ask if there was anything else Vexen needed him for or anything else they could do that might help.

"No." Vexen answered both of his questions. "You may go, Nine." Demyx dragged himself out of the chair and out of the lab, and eventually out the front door of the castle, his entire body feeling numb except for the deep, hollow ache in his chest. It was raining - big surprise.

He stood quietly and listened for a few long moments, as the hollow ache in his chest threatened to become overpowering. _I can't hear the rain anymore..._ He felt like he was going to choke, or like his chest was going to implode, as the rain intensified with his grief.

Grief? Yes. It had to be.

But as the rain pounded down ever harder, until it became a torrential downpour, he started to smile a little. _Now_ he could hear it. Leaving the immediate vicinity of the castle, he walked through the streets, letting the rain soak through his robe and right to his skin. He felt better than he had since he'd learned he was losing his hearing - he felt, oddly enough, free. Like he didn't have anything left to lose. Well, he didn't. He was going to lose the one thing that really mattered to him within a matter of months, and there wasn't anything anyone could do about it. But that was in the future. He still had now.

It was like being diagnosed with a terminal illness. There was no way he could survive without being able to hear music; he knew that as well as he knew his own name, or better, so the obvious thing to do was end it when he couldn't hear music anymore. In the meantime - he'd get the most he could out of his unlife. Listen to music without worrying. Play sitar as long as he could. Compose - songs that would outlive him, if he was lucky, and remind the worlds that he'd almost existed at one point. Go back to New Orleans for Mardi Gras. Hell, take Axel and Roxas along; they were the best friends he had, even if they did have the idea that he was on drugs. They wouldn't anymore; he was done moping. There wasn't enough time for that shit. He should see if Zexion would be willing to come too; he'd been up to here in that mess, same as the rest of them, and he was the best photographer in the Organization. He wanted pictures. There had to be pictures.

Demyx looked up into the pouring rain and laughed. He'd had enough of crying. __

* * *

_Keeping a Secret_

"Come on, Zexion!"

"Nine, I am not interested."

"I'm begging you -"

"Return to (a ruined world for the) chance to expose my(self to huge crowds and rau)cous noise? I think not!"

"You're the best photographer in the Organization, and we need someone to take pictures - besides -"

"And isn't there (a risk of this jaunt exa)cerbating your hearing loss?"

Demyx stopped dead. Zexion might as well have hit him over the head with his lexicon. "...How do you know?" he finally choked. _Vexen talked, Vexen told him, he's the only one who knows, it had to be him, I told him to keep it secret..._

"It's fair(ly obvious to someone who) knows what to look for."

Demyx's train of thought stopped in its tracks. "What do you mean?"

"Several weeks ago, Four ac(quired a number of blood samp)les from you, no? I was the one (responsible for conducting va)rious tests (on all those samples. No) sane physician or(ders so much testing on a) patient he be(lieves is perfect)ly healthy, but when I asked (him about it dire)ctly, the most (he would volunteer is that you) had suddenly developed a puzz(ling neurological con)dition that he suspect(ed did not originate) in the brain. That left (a wide range of) possibilities - sensory loss, unexplained nerve pain, loss of (gross or fine mo)tor skills. So - I ob(served your beha)vior from then on, and I have seen several clues." Zexion started ticking signs off on his fingers. "You ap(pear to pay twice as much) attention at meetings as (usual, but you emerge with) even less knowledge of what went (on at these meetings. In) conversation, your eyes (never leave the oth)er person's face - I suspect (you read their lips at) least as much (as you actually hear what) they say." Demyx had to nod - that was exactly what he was doing right now. "Also, when you (attempt to converse with some)one whose face you cannot (see, you have substan)tial difficulties - most often, you ask (them to repeat them)selves until they turn (around and you can see) their face, or you (move until you) can see them. When someone at(tempts to gain your atten)tion, they usually re(sort to visual cues or tac)tile cues - waving (at you or touching) your shoulder. When they call (your name or number, you) don't seem to notice."

Demyx sighed heavily. It seemed so obvious when he explained it... "Does everyone know?" he whispered.

Zexion shook his head. "I assumed (you wanted this infor)mation kept as sec(ret as reasonably) possible." He looked a little disdainful. "Most of the (others have no more con)cern than they would for the (price of a dozen oy)sters in Moscow. Eight and Thir(teen are concerned,) but they have (no idea of) the truth. Their theories (are ridiculous)ly off base, though not en(tirely without logic), to an untrained mind."

"I though you said it was obvious..."

"Obvious to (someone who knows what) to look for. The others, for (the most part)...don't. And those (that might, aren't look)ing."

Demyx could hardly believe his ears - or his eyes. "So you're not...going to tell anyone?"

"As I said, (I presumed you wanted) this informa(tion kept sec)ret."

Demyx almost half-smiled. "Well...thanks...so, um...about New Orleans..."


	4. Part 4

_Breathe Again_

  
"You actually expect me to go back to that hellhole?!"

"It's not such a hellhole anymore; I promise...okay, I admit it's not back to what it used to be, but it's livable now, I swear...look, I managed to convince Zexion to go, and you know what a fussbudget he is..."

Axel shook his head. "I still think you've lost your mind..." He swallowed suddenly, realizing that might not have been the smartest thing he ever said, considering, but Demyx just laughed.

"Come on, Ax...it'll be a blast...the biggest party in the worlds, bar none...will you at least think about it?"

Axel sighed and held up his hands. "All right. I'll think about it. That make you happy, or closer to it?"

Demyx nodded enthusiastically. "Awesome. Do you know where Roxas is?"

"Not off the top of my head..." Not entirely true; Axel had a good idea where to look for him, but Demyx needed to burn off a little enthusiasm. And Roxas could probably use a little warning. While Demyx took off in search, Axel portaled down to Roxas's room. As he'd suspected, Roxas was down there, reading a book. "Heads up - Demyx is looking for you."

Roxas sighed and turned the book facedown on the bed. "For what? And should I be worried?"

Axel shrugged. "You might. He was trying to convince me to go back to New Orleans for this big party they have every year. And he asked me where you were, so I assume he's going to try to make you the same offer."

Roxas rolled over and looked at him. "Considering how he's been going around looking like he was more than a little sick in the head, I'd say if he's trying to organize a trip anywhere just for fun, that's probably an improvement. Unless, you know, he's manic-depressive or something and this is the manic side."

Axel thought about that for a moment. "Well, as far as I'm concerned, he's gotta be a few cards short of a full deck to want to go back to New Orleans, but other than that...he actually seemed pretty rational. Not rational, I guess he's been fairly rational all along...stable, I think is the word I wanted to use. Emotionally stable, at least so far as a Nobody can be emotionally stable or unstable." He nodded to himself. "That's the least weird, depressed, or otherwise mental I've seen him this month. He actually looked normal."

"Good," Roxas said fervently. "Hopefully that means he's back to normal, and this isn't just the calm before the storm or something."

"I damn well hope so." Axel sank into Roxas's desk chair. "Maybe I can actually sleep at night, instead of waking up at every little sound and wondering what the hell he's doing and if he's going to hurt himself or anyone else doing it."

Roxas raised an eyebrow. "Are you serious?"

"It's not very comfortable, sleeping one room away from a possible drugged-up lunatic, got it memorized?"

"Maybe he's off whatever it was."

Axel shook his head. "Nah. I think he was telling the truth the whole time, and he wasn't on anything to begin with. If he was, I think someone would have seen some stronger evidence than that. I live next door to him; we share a bathroom; you'd think I'd find needles or something or notice funny powders or smells. But - nothing." He half-snickered. "Maybe it was whatever work they had him doing for Vexen."

Roxas choked back a laugh. "Maybe Vexen was feeding him random potions just to see what they did."

Axel laughed humorlessly. "I hope you're wrong. Maybe just hanging around Vexen might have done it. Vexen is made of one hundred percent psychoceramic."

"...Psychoceramic?"

"...He's a crackpot."

* * *

 

_No Time_

  
"Uh...Luxord? Could...you do me a favor?" Demyx had a brief "what the hell am I doing here" moment, and not his first one. He'd always been a little afraid of the Gambler of Fate, though not in the same way he was afraid of, say, Saix and Larxene. With Saix and Larxene, he was worried that he'd walk out of any given encounter with substantial blood loss; in Luxord's case, he was worried about financial loss. Though he couldn't come up with a sensible reason why to save his life, he preferred to keep both his blood and his munny. Just in case he really could hypnotize you into gambling away your life savings.

For a known card sharp and probable con artist, Luxord was mostly a courteous sort. "What sort of (favor do you) need?" he asked with a nod and a smile.

Demyx couldn't help but swallow nervously, wondering how he was going to say what he wanted to. "...I wanna learn how to play poker," was what eventually came out. True, but not the whole story.

Luxord raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's certain(ly something I can do) for you, but you've nev(er shown any interest in) card games before."

Demyx scratched his head. "Well...I, uh...kinda wanted to...arrange for a particular day off...for me and a few others...and, uh...I know Xigbar is in charge of mission assignments...and he likes playing poker..."

Luxord actually chuckled slightly. "And you were ho(ping to win a short vaca)tion for yourself and your (friends? I wondered how long) it would take for some(one else to think of that)...very well, I can't ar(gue with your motives. Step in)side; this will take no time at all." Since this was Luxord, he believed it literally. Demyx followed him into the room, keeping his eyes on Luxord's face as much as possible and wondering how much munny this was going to cost him and whether it might have been better spent trying to bribe Xigbar. "All right, the (game we usually play is) called five-card draw..." He pulled out a chair at the card table for Demyx, took a seat himself, and started shuffling his omnipresent cards. Then he dealt them at speeds too fast for the eye to quite make out, five each to the two of them and to two Gamblers who suddenly appeared to fill out the table. "All right, do (you see how the cards) are laid out?" Demyx didn't look away from the other man's face, not wanting to miss anything important. Luxord gestured impatiently at the table. "Look at the cards."

_But...if I can't see your face...I won't know what you're saying..._ Demyx sighed heavily and looked down at the cards lying facedown on the table. He'd just found another way for this to go spectacularly wrong.

He glanced up at the clock on the wall, watching it carefully for a few moments. The second hand didn't budge, but he knew Luxord would never keep a broken clock in his room. He sighed again. Well, as long as they were going to take no time at all, Luxord could afford to repeat himself as often as necessary...

* * *

 

_Sport_

  
It was kind of nice, without Axel and Roxas breathing down his neck at all times. They must have decided he was off whatever imaginary drug he was supposed to be on. As much as he'd tried to convince them, they wouldn't let the idea go until he'd gone "back to normal" - once he got sick of obsessing and glooming over his hearing loss, and once he'd allowed himself to play again. It would have been a lot easier if he'd just broken down and told them, but...no. He couldn't do that. They'd be happier if they thought he really was back to normal. Insofar as a Nobody could be happy, or normal.

The tradeoff was, Demyx was kind of lonely now. And he was still working out the new tunings that would make it much easier to hear the music he played, and his fingers were starting to throb with the effort. If he left the mezrabs on his fingers for ten more minutes, they'd swell so much he wouldn't get them off without drawing blood.

The tunings could wait an hour. He set the instrument aside, tugged the mezrabs off his fingers with some difficulty, and went for a walk. For some reason, he wandered down to the practice arena, a place he usually avoided. At least it was fresh scenery - fresher than it really should be, he supposed. Axel and Roxas were down there, but they weren't practicing fighting; they were kicking around a black-and-white ball. Demyx stood next to where their robes were hanging over the rail, watching them play, mostly because it was something to do and made him feel a little less lonely.

Eventually Axel noticed him. "Hey, looking for..."

Demyx squinted, but he couldn't make out what Axel was saying; he was too far away. "Sorry, what?"

Axel managed to kick the ball up to where he could catch it easily with his hands and crossed the arena towards where Demyx was standing. Roxas followed him, once he noticed they had an audience. "Were you (looking for ei)ther of us?"

Demyx shrugged. "Not really. I was just bored and lonely, so I went for a walk and ended up coming here."

"Okay." Axel set the ball back on the ground, expertly corralling it with his feet. "Hey, you wanna play?"

Demyx snorted. "Are you kidding? You know what kind of athlete I am. Besides, I have no idea how to play...whatever it is you were playing."

Axel stared in disbelief. "You mean you don't (recognize soccer) when you see it?"

Demyx sighed. "I'm sorry, Axel; I know I'm an idiot, don't remind me."

Roxas took advantage of his distraction to hook the ball with his foot and drag it away. "The rules are sim(ple. No fistfighting,) and don't let the (ball touch you above the) waist. Except for your head."

Well... Demyx peeled off his robe and left it next to the other two. It didn't look boring, at least.

* * *

 

_Precious Treasure_

  
On the list of things Axel liked to do for fun, reading was well towards the low end, somewhere around "locking self in freezer" and "going on missions with Marluxia and Vexen". He knew he had to force his way though this book to stand much of a chance on his next major mission, but damned if he was going to like it. Besides, German was such an impossible language, and who the hell thought it was possible to learn a new language just from reading a book...maybe Zexion could, but Axel wasn't Zexion...

So when the sitar started playing next door, he was eager to be distracted. He set the book down, opened both bathroom doors, and watched Demyx play. The musician was totally unaware of him, focused completely on his instrument, as if he was in his own little world with nothing but his sitar and the music he was playing. As Axel listened, he realized the music sounded unusual, at least for Demyx - deeper and louder, none of that soft, intricate stuff that always sounded like rain. This was more powerful, like a great river. A...great river of...

Axel put a hand to his chest, almost involuntarily, wondering where that hollow ache had come from. He wanted to cry, even though he knew he had no reason to; he knew he was losing something truly precious to him, so precious he couldn't live without it and would die once it was gone, even though he couldn't think what to save his life. _What the hell...whatever it is, I don't like it!_

He shook his head, hard. "Are you doing that?" he demanded of the musician. Demyx ignored him completely, too wrapped up in his music to even know he was there. Axel nudged him with a toe. "What are you doing?"

Demyx looked up in sudden alarm, dispelling his sitar. "What?"

"I said, what are you doing? What the hell was that?"

Demyx flinched away a little. "I was...just playing...sorry if it bugged you..."

"Well, playing I don't mind; I needed the distraction, but...whatever you were playing, it made me feel...made me feel..." Axel's eyes widened, and he pressed a hand to his chest again, over where his heart should be. "...What the hell..." Demyx scrambled to his feet, eyes huge. "Before you ask, no, there's nothing there." Then...how the hell did I feel that? Axel glared accusingly at the musician. _Is that your secret? You've been able to feel all along?_

_Do you feel like that all the time? What are you losing, that you can't live without? What's so precious to you as that?_

"I'm sorry," Demyx murmured, edging away from the glaring redhead. "I didn't mean..."

Axel shook his head. "Forget it..." He turned to go, but turned back for a moment. "By the way, Roxas told me to tell you he was interested in going back to New Orleans." Demyx blinked in apparent confusion, then started to smile faintly. As Axel went back to his own room, he could hear the sitar start to play again.

_Oh...that's your treasure, I guess...but how could you lose your sitar?_

_I must be imagining things..._

* * *

 

_Break Away_

  
_Mmm...bed...so comfortable...don't wanna move..._ Demyx shifted a little and pulled the blankets up, not opening his eyes. He didn't want to budge a single moment before his alarm went off. It would inevitably ring, but he was going to wait for it.

Something vague caught his attention, and he opened one eye, not sure what he was supposed to be looking at. Not seeing anything, he closed his eye and settled back in for a few more minutes of sleep.

Someone with a trumpet started playing "When The Saints Go Marching In". Right in his ear. He yelped and half-jumped, half-fell out of bed, but there was no one there. "...Zexion! Is this supposed to be a joke?"

The Cloaked Schemer opened his door, flicked the light switch, and peered in, the camera around his neck dangling free. "At the time, it had (seemed a necessi)ty, as you slept (right through your alarm) going off."

"I...what?...Shit!" Demyx came close to panicking as he realized what day it was.

"I had thought, be(ing the organizer) of this whole expe(dition, you would) prefer not (to simply sleep) through it."

"Shit - I know - I gotta shower - how'd I sleep through that - shit!" Demyx hastily shut the door, noticing Axel and Roxas were standing behind Zexion and trying to smother laughs, and peeled off his clothes. But as he stood in the shower, and let the warm water wash over him, panic gave way to gloom. He knew why he'd missed the alarm. He just plain couldn't hear it anymore.

Just one more little loss on the way to oblivion.

He shook himself hard, letting the little droplets scatter all over the bathroom. He didn't need to waste time thinking about that. It was Mardi Gras; he'd promised his friends and himself a good time; he couldn't let himself ruin that by moping. Besides, he'd had enough of that already.

_And the looks on their faces when they see what they've done with the city since they last saw it...it's just gonna be priceless..._ He was starting to smile a little as he finished drying himself off. By the time he popped on a T-shirt and started running a handful of gel through his hair, he was singing to himself. "How I want to be in that number, when the saints go marching in..."

He opened the door before he even had his boots on. "Hey, guys, sorry to keep you waiting, give me one more minute -"

"I think we've been...already, and couldn't you...you opened the door?"

Demyx, who'd been putting his boots on, couldn't tell what Axel had said in its entirety, but guessed he was asking why he hadn't put his boots on first. "I thought you guys might like an update. Besides, it's not like it's gonna take me an hour to get these on..." He stood up, zipped up his robe, and reached into a drawer for the final accessory.

Zexion stared at him like he'd grown a third arm. "Nine...the mask...is it necessary?"

"Hell yes it is." Demyx gestured, and a portal opened. He couldn't hear it, but there was faint music emanating from the other side of the portal. "Come on, guys. Let's make a break for it, quick."

* * *

 

_Vacation_

  
"Hey, guys! Guess what I got!"

Roxas and Zexion both turned to look at Demyx, who was forcing his way through the crowd, trying to protect a white bakery box and a little grocery bag that looked like it had a coconut in it. Axel was up to his ears in a muffuletta, his red-and-gold mask on the table to avoid getting glitter in it. "Axel, get your face out of the sandwich...are you seriously going to eat that whole huge thing? Because I think Demyx is bringing dessert," Roxas said as he and Zexion peeled their masks off.

Axel looked up, grinning, and swallowed. "I might. This is good. I'm glad Demyx hauled us back here, if all the food's like this."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Eight, but you've said much the same about everything you've sampled today...including the Sazeracs..."

Axel laughed as he downed the cocktail - he was a little under the influence by now. "Well, they're good too."

"All right, gents, clear the table...Axel, a muffuletta is supposed to feed two or more people, not one...furnace..." Demyx set the bakery box down, bending the lid back under the box to take up as little space as possible on the outdoor table. The other three Nobodies all peered inside at once, at the ring-shaped pastry covered in frosting and purple, green, and gold sugar crystals, while Demyx fished a little package of paper plates and a pack of disposable knives and forks out of the grocery bag. The gold-painted coconut stayed in the bag, and Demyx's blue-and-silver mask stayed on his face.

Eventually Roxas worked up the nerve to ask, while Zexion snapped a picture of the cake. "This should probably be really obvious, but...what is it?"

"Say what?" Demyx said, turning to look at him while he passed out plates and forks.

Roxas raised his voice in an effort to be heard over the crowd. "What is that?"

"Oh. It's a king cake. Also the reason I told you all to save a little room." Demyx was smiling as he cut it into slices, dividing it along the lines defined by the colored sugar. "It's a popular tradition, though Mardi Gras is waaay late in the season to start it." He got a green slice, Axel and Zexion got purple slices, and Roxas got a gold slice. "This is supposed to be the centerpiece of a party, but...well, there are only four of us. I got the smallest one I could find," he explained, blushing a little.

"Don't worry," Axel said around a mouthful of cake. "I'll eat whatever the rest of you don't."

"Of course you will," Roxas muttered under his breath. It was good, under the sweet sugar and icing - it tasted like cinnamon, which he hadn't expected. He took another bite - and bit down on something hard that seemed inedible. More than a little disturbed, he fished it out of his mouth and found himself holding a little plastic baby. "...Is this thing supposed to be in here?"

Demyx cheered. "Hey, Roxas got the baby! I guess that means he gets to be king!"

Roxas just stared at him for a second, while Zexion took another picture and swapped out the roll of film. "...Is this part of the tradition or something?"

Demyx nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely. There's one in every king cake, and finding it in your slice is supposed to be good luck. Whoever finds it is also supposed to buy the cake for the next party - though, since today is Mardi Gras, that's not gonna be until next January, when the season starts over."

Axel laughed. "I was gonna say 'lucky you', but not if it means you have to buy the next one." He'd gotten his hands on a Bloody Mary while the rest of them weren't looking.

"It is lucky," Demyx insisted, handing Roxas a napkin. "Rox, you should wipe it off and keep it as a souvenir."

Zexion was eyeing Axel doubtfully. "Eight, do you intend to continue drinking all day?"

Axel shrugged and took a drink. "I dunno. I might."

Zexion sighed in exasperation, but Demyx just shrugged. "He is on vacation."

Axel's eyes were wandering from the others at the table to the revelers on the streets. Roxas followed his gaze, then tapped Demyx on the shoulder. "Axel's bi, isn't he," he whispered into the musician's ear.

"Huh?" Demyx turned around to face him, giving Roxas no chance to try whispering into his ear again.

"I said, Axel's bi, isn't he," he repeated, giving up on whispering but trying to keep his voice low enough Axel wouldn't hear.

Demyx nodded. "What gave it away, the way he's ogling the scantily clad gay guys? He normally tries to keep quiet about it, though he doesn't go miles out of his way to hide it, especially once he's had a few - is it a huge problem?" Roxas considered for a moment, then shook his head - whether Axel liked men, women, or both didn't really make much of a difference, when he thought about it. "Good. The other guys used to give him a batch of shit about it, until they got over it."

Roxas glanced over Demyx's shoulder at the redhead, who was finishing off the Bloody Mary. "Man...if he keeps this up, he won't be able to walk by the end of the day."

Demyx shrugged and half-smiled. "In that case, we drag his drunken ass home. That's what friends are for, right?"


	5. Part 5

_Memory_

  
"These must have (been retouched) or something..." Axel's face was as red as his hair as he looked over the pictures Zexion had taken from Mardi Gras. "There's no way (I was that drunk)..."

"Are those (the pictures of) you and Demyx?" Roxas leaned over his shoulder. "Sorry, Ax, (but I kind of saw) the whole thing..."

Demyx nodded sagely. "You were that drunk." He didn't see fit to say anything else, since Axel had all the hard evidence of his alcoholic indiscretions he needed in front of his eyes already. Well... "He didn't take any pictures of you grabbing my crotch, did he?" While Roxas burst out laughing, Axel, unbelievably, turned even redder. "I know there's an ass grab picture in there..."

"Shut uuuuup..." Axel groaned.

Roxas snatched the pictures out of his hands and started sorting through them. "Here's one!" He held up a picture of a thoroughly intoxicated Axel, leaning heavily on Demyx, with one arm around his waist and one hand between his legs, while Demyx looked like he wanted to cry, throw up, or keel over dead.

Axel buried his face in his hands and muttered something Demyx couldn't make out as the room heated up a few degrees. "I think I shoved you into a wall about two seconds later," Demyx said musingly.

Axel looked up, looking like he wanted to throw himself off a building. (I'm never touching alcohol again), he murmured.

Roxas sat down next to him and put an arm around his shoulder. "Look on the (bright side. Zexi)on could have just (handed them out at) the next meeting, in(stead of giving) them to us."

(Shut up.)

Demyx sat down on the other side of him. "Hey, I wanted it to be memorable...thanks to you, it was memorable, at least for the rest of us!"

"Would you quit?!" Axel demanded.

Demyx couldn't help but laugh. "All right, Rox, are there any pictures in there that aren't of Axel making a drunken fool of himself?" He took the stack of photographs and sorted through them himself, pulling out pictures of the parades, Demyx receiving a Zulu coconut, a furiously blushing Roxas being jokingly fussed over by two scantily clad women, a masked Axel covered in as many strings of beads as the four of them could find, a picture of the three of them in their masks, a picture of Axel, Demyx, and Zexion that Roxas had taken at Demyx's insistence ("We need some proof Zexion was here too!" he'd said), the street band Demyx had spent almost an hour talking and listening to...

Something sharp and painful scratched at the inside of his chest. He'd pretended, he'd tried, he still wished, but he knew he hadn't been able to hear all of the music. Not just that band's music - they'd been surrounded by music all day, and while Axel, Roxas, and Zexion had had the full benefit (until Axel got too drunk to remember anything), Demyx...

_It was the music I really wanted to hear, and I could only hear about half of it._

_Am I sorry I went? Oh, hell no...I always wanted to go to New Orleans for Mardi Gras before I died...I wish circumstances were a little different, but it was wonderful...even if I had some trouble hearing the music...besides, it was the last chance I had..._

"...day you're (going to remem)ber for the (rest of your nat)ural life, huh?" Roxas said, as Demyx looked up from the pictures.

Demyx smiled and nodded at him, with as much artificial feeling as he could muster. _Will you remember it for me when I'm gone? Will you still remember me?_

* * *

 

_Creation_

  
Demyx didn't have an audience in the Hall of Empty Melodies. He didn't especially want one at the moment - he was still working out the rough spots of this composition. He didn't want anyone else to hear it until he had a final draft ready to go. Taking a deep breath, glancing one last time at the sheets of music, he summoned his sitar and began to play.

Even with the new tunings he'd worked out, there were some notes he had to strain to hear, and some he just couldn't hear at all. But while he was playing, that didn't bother him at all. Where he couldn't hear the music with his ears, he heard it in his mind, as clear and beautiful as it had been before he lost any of his hearing. It was - almost - enough to make him forget what he was going through. At least, until he actually tried to listen. When he tried to listen - well, if he'd had a heart, it would have broken a thousand times over by now anyway, ever since Vexen had told him he was going deaf.

Going deaf. It couldn't be coincidence that it sounded so much like "going dead".

No. Not yet. Not while he could still hear music. As long as he could still hear music, there was some point in continuing to exist, and as long as he still existed, he had a duty to himself to get as much out of his "life" as he could. Soon enough, it would be over, and he had to take full advantage of the time he had left. So he closed his ears, opened his mind, and played. As he played, he started to smile involuntarily - yes, that was what he wanted. That was what he'd hoped for. That was true beauty.

_How can they say we can't feel anything, if we still recognize beauty when we experience it?_

Soon enough, he'd lose this experience. But that was for later. A tremor of sorrow wove itself into the melody, bound by something he couldn't quite put a name to - determination? Strength of spirit? Maybe someone with a heart would know what to call it, or maybe someone with a heart would find it completely foreign. Whatever it was, he allowed it to stay, along with the sorrow. They only improved the composition, in his opinion. This was what he lived for - for playing the music; the act of creation, the genesis of something truly beautiful. This was what made him feel truly whole again. He closed his eyes and let the music wash over him, both in his ears and in his mind. No, it wasn't possible for him to live without this glory.

_Yes. I made the right decision._

The sorrow, and whatever came with it, wove themselves around the melody, making themselves integral parts of it without overwhelming it. He smiled faintly and turned to the sheets of music, writing in the new changes.

_Let the worlds hear this, and maybe remember me..._

He played it one more time, including the new threads of sorrow and whatever else. Yes. That was it. That was the only way he could describe it - that was it. He smiled broadly and finally signed his name to the sheets of music. Composition complete.

But even as he signed his name, a new melody started to unroll itself in his mind - one that demanded to be written down, played, remembered. He laughed softly to himself and returned to his room to drop off the newly-completed work and pick up fresh sheets of staff paper. The process of creation was unending.

* * *

 

_Illusion_

  
"Um...Zexion...I need a...little help." Demyx wanted to kick himself. Why did it seem like he couldn't get a full sentence out at once when it actually mattered?

Zexion just gave him a you're-interrupting-me-I-hope-you-know look. "Will this (take long, Nine?)"

"No..." Demyx swallowed hard. "I don't think so...you're good at pretending things, right? Making things seem like something they're really not?"

Zexion nodded. "That is (part and parcel of) the entire con(cept of illusion)."

Demyx nodded, sighed, and took a deep breath. "I need some help."

Zexion raised an eyebrow. "What (manner of) help?"

Demyx swallowed hard again. "I'm having trouble. Pretending I can...still hear just fine. It's getting harder and harder; I used to be able to at least hear when someone behind me was trying to get my attention and talk to me, even if I couldn't hear what they said and had to ask them to repeat themselves; now they almost have to yell in my ear before I'll notice them, or grab my shoulder...I dunno why no one else has picked up on it yet; maybe they have and just haven't said anything, or maybe they're just going 'oh, it's dumbass Demyx, can't expect him to have a clue what's going on around him'..." He was babbling hysterically at this point, and he knew it, but he couldn't stop himself.

Zexion stopped him. "And you (want my assist)ance to help (you maintain the illu)sion of be(ing able to hear per)fectly well?"

Demyx nodded quickly. "Do you have any ideas?"

Zexion closed his eyes in thought for a moment, then opened them again. "Headphones," was all he said.

Demyx blinked, sure he'd missed something. "Headphones? That's it?"

Zexion nodded. "It's fairly (simple. You are known as) a great music (aficionado; if you were) to sport headphones (nearly every waking) moment I (doubt anyone would be) greatly surprised. (And if you have music) playing in your (ears all the time, no one) would expect you (to hear as clearly). If you rem(oved them when you) turned to face some(one who was trying to address you), they would think (you'd simply removed the int)erference and (would not suspect you were read)ing their lips."

Demyx nodded slowly - that did make a lot of sense. "I wouldn't even necessarily have to play music...though if it was loud enough for other people to hear, that would help...I could keep my stereo on when I'm in my room, too, so no one'll be surprised when I don't hear them knock."

Zexion nodded. "You have (the idea)."

Demyx started to crack a smile. "Thanks...thanks a ton...heh, it's so simple and obvious when you mention it, but I know I would never have thought of it on my own..."

"You're in (good company. The worlds) are riddled (with good ideas that those) who would bene(fit most from would never) think of inde(pendently.)"

"Huh?" Demyx blinked, confused, but Zexion had gone back to his book and tuned him out completely.

* * *

 

_Danger Ahead_

  
"Dammit - get down already!" Something grabbed the back of Demyx's neck and forced him facedown onto the ground. While he lay there, confused and feeling more than a little threatened, something exploded overhead, more than loud enough for him to hear it. It was almost close enough for him to feel the heat. Xigbar didn't let him up for a good thirty seconds after that. "What the (fuck were you) thinking, dude? Why (the fuck weren't) you thinking? (Did you not hear) any of the (warnings)?"

Demyx was forced to shake his head. He'd heard them vaguely, but not nearly enough to make any sense of them; he hadn't paid any attention. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"You'd have been (a hell of a lot) sorrier (if you'd had your emp)ty head blown off..." Demyx could only nod at that, squeezing his eyes shut only because he couldn't read lips anyway with his eyes clouded with tears. "Dude, what...you?"

That forced Demyx to open his eyes. "What?"

"I said, (what's up with) you?"

Demyx had to bite his lip. It had to be obvious by now...after that... "Nothing," he mumbled unconvincingly.

Xigbar believed that about as much as he'd expected him to. "Nothing damn (near got you blown) to bits, kid. (You'd have been killed if) you'd come alone. (Pretty impress)ive for nothing."

Demyx nodded, feeling like he'd been rooted to the spot. He was humiliated beyond all reason. Wishing for another bomb to come along so he wouldn't have to deal with it, he opened his mouth to try to say something, but he couldn't make a sound. He sighed. There just wasn't anything he could say. Xigbar narrowed his eye. "Did the (blast make you go deaf) or something?" Demyx shook his head. If it was something as simple as an explosion, he'd be better off - he'd at least know why.

Xigbar hauled him to his feet and led him back behind the line of fighting, dropping him off at the nearest medical tent. "Think the kid's...not really...gotta admit...keep an eye...give you a hand...repeat yourself...not exactly...around him." Demyx wished with all his absent heart he could hear everything Xigbar said, but that just wasn't going to happen, and he didn't dare look up long enough to read his lips. Shame left his eyes fixed on his filthy boots. Even when he was led to the nearest rickety chair and had a moth-eaten blanket draped over his shoulders - which was probably one moth-eaten blanket more than could really be spared - he didn't look up to see who was chaperoning him now while Xigbar finished the mission alone.

 _Kingdom Hearts, why here? Why now? He's gonna be convinced I'm no use for missions anymore..._ Normally, getting as few missions as possible was a reasonable goal, but never getting sent on another mission...because he simply wasn't fit for duty anymore...well, it wasn't like he was a great asset to the Organization to begin with...

Someone tapped him on the shoulder, and he looked up into the unshaven, none-too-clean face of one of the field doctors. "Could you give (us a hand with) these water barrels?" He was talking loudly; Xigbar must have warned him. That I'm not all there or something? He nodded anyway and stood up, leaving the blanket on the chair, and let the doctor lead him to a rusted flatbed vehicle with four large barrels in the back. Demyx bit his lip; he could tell even from where he was that none of the barrels was more than half-full, and the water inside was none too pure.

Well, that was one thing he was still good for. "I swear, (they only get heavi)er with every inch," the doctor said as they struggled to get the first barrel upright in the tent. Demyx smiled to himself - that was because the barrel had gone from just under half-full to full over the fifty feet from truck to tent. And the water inside was far cleaner, too, which would probably drop this tent's casualty rate substantially. He didn't say anything; just went back for the next barrel. This one was only a third full; he'd have to go a little slower to make sure he had the time to fill it and clean it before reaching the tent...

* * *

 

_Drink_

  
"Axel...is this, um...normal?"

Axel leaned over for a look at Roxas's latest mission assignment. In more than one spot, the number "IX" had been scratched out and "XIII" had been written over it. "No...that's not...that hardly ever happens. Either Xigbar owed Demyx something or he's suddenly on the disabled list." They were keeping their voices down so the Melodious Nocturne wouldn't hear them. "Those are the only reasons I can think of why they'd reassign a mission after the paperwork is filled out." He glanced to the side - it didn't look like Demyx had suffered some serious injury that would keep him from completing a mission. Demyx looked pretty much like he always did - maybe a little glummer, but that was getting to be way too normal. "I wouldn't say anything to him. Just go out, get it done, and come back."

Roxas nodded warily, folded the paper again, and stuffed it back in the envelope. Not for the first time, Axel looked over at Demyx and wondered what was going on in there. Did Xigbar know? Was that why Demyx's mission had been reassigned? Was something so messed up in his head he wasn't fit for duty anymore? Demyx suddenly looked up at him, and he got the feeling that he knew exactly what was going on and it cut him to the core. He sighed.

After Roxas left, Axel went up to Demyx's room to question him. The stereo was pounding, as usual, so Axel just opened the door and went in - no way Demyx would have heard him knock. The musician was sitting on his bed in the dark, staring blankly into an open bottle of rum, or at least that's what it smelled like. "For the love of Kingdom Hearts..." Demyx didn't seem to see or hear him; he just took a long drink from the bottle, choking a little on the potent stuff. Probably some of Luxord's favorite from Port Royal. Axel tapped his foot with a toe, none too gently. That got his attention, at least. "Demyx, what are you doing with that bottle?" Demyx didn't answer, just shook his head and drew back a little in alarm. Axel snatched the bottle out of his hand - it was still almost full, which was a good sign. "What the hell's the matter with you that you think a bottle of booze can fix?" Still no answer; Demyx just burst into tears. Well, after five minutes and no more than one or two drinks, it couldn't have been the alcohol making him cry.

Axel shook his head sadly. "You're pretty fucked up, aren't you." Demyx just nodded tearfully. "Why don't you ever tell anyone what the problem is?"

Demyx spoke his first words all day. "I...can't."

"You can't...why can't you?" Demyx just buried his face in his arms and cried harder. "Look, you've gotta talk sometime...it's killing you from the inside out. I don't like having to just stand by and watch it." Axel sat down next to him and put an arm around his shoulders - not the one that had the bottle. "I'm not gonna accuse you of anything. I know you were never on drugs. Just tell me what's going on. Tell anyone; it doesn't have to be me. But you've gotta tell someone."

Demyx sighed heavily. "...I think I'm gonna need a lot more to drink first."

Axel sighed and handed the bottle back. "Fine. But I'm gonna be keeping an eye on you to make sure you don't do anything stupid."

"...Fair enough." Demyx took the bottle and took a long drink. "Sure you don't mind spending your day chaperoning a drunk?"

"I owe you at least three."

* * *

 

_Tower_

  
Demyx had never quite realized how many towers the Castle that Never Was had, or how far off the ground they were. But after spending entirely too long atoning for his daylong binge at the porcelain throne, he'd gone walking - well, sort of stumbling - through the endless white corridors, trying to sober up in time to get a little actual sleep. Funny; alcohol made some people sleepy after just a few drinks. He had to drink enough to pass out first. He'd had that much and then some - large chunks of the day were total blanks in his memory, though going by the disgusted looks Axel kept giving him, that was probably just as well - but it was starting to wear off now, and he had no intentions of trying to knock himself out again.

_Who built this castle, and were they drunk when they drew the blueprints? If they were, why did they put so many stairs in? I'm gonna fall and break my damn neck..._

He sat down on the top stair, staring back down the way he came. Boy, those stairs were high...he'd never quite realized how high they were before...if he'd fallen, he'd have broken his neck in a second.

Would anyone know what had happened? Would anyone care?

He sighed and dragged himself upright, stumbling over to the nearest window. Seeing just how far away the ground was made him feel more than a little dizzy - not to mention sick - but it mesmerized him. He couldn't have looked away to save his life. Maybe it was the alcohol, but - something about the drop drew him like a magnet.

_Does this window open?_

It didn't, but there was a door nearby that led to a small, little-used balcony. Standing there in the light of Kingdom Hearts, leaning over the rail, staring down from the dizzying height, wondering what his last few moments would be like if the railing suddenly gave way...

Probably a lot like flying. When he finally hit bottom, he probably wouldn't have time to register any pain.

Would any of the others ever find out what had happened to him? Would they wake up the next day to discover he was gone forever and never know why? Would they notice the broken railing, or would no one ever think to check this little balcony? Would they go "Poor Demyx, he was such a sweet guy, I wonder what happened to him" or "Well, if it had to be any of us, at least it was only Nine" or "Good riddance, he was a waste of space anyhow"?

After all, since he was a Nobody, there wouldn't be a body to find. He wondered about the people who'd found his Other's body under the bridge - did they wonder what his name was, or why he'd been out there alone on such a cold night, or why he was clutching a sitar in his hands, or whether he'd had anyone who loved him or cared about him or who would worry when he never came back - he didn't, but did they wonder? Or did they go "Oh, one more homeless kid frozen to death, no big deal" and just stuff him in a body bag like a piece of trash? It wasn't like he'd had any sweet, innocent beauty that could melt hearts even in death - in fact, his Other had been pretty ugly, in his opinion. Face not even a mother could love, apparently; as far as he knew, his didn't. Just dropped him off with her own mother one day and never came back.

What had happened to his grandmother's sitar?

Why was he thinking about that now?

Were a few more months of this ridiculous half-life before utter oblivion really worth it? Wouldn't it be better to make his final exit before the music abandoned him completely?

If he simply climbed over the rail and let himself fall, would anyone miss him?

He didn't hear the door open, but he couldn't miss the hand that suddenly grabbed his shoulder and whirled him around. "Nine, (what are you) doing?" Saix could pack more threat into five words and a stare than most people could convey by screaming obscenities and shoving weapons in your face.

"Couldn' sleep - didn' feel well - jus' went for a walk -" Demyx choked. The thought of being thrown over the railing was decidedly unappealing at the moment, though it definitely seemed likely.

Saix glared at him with glowing yellow eyes, as if contemplating whether to throw him off the balcony and be done with him or drag him back inside, tear him apart, and eat him. Eventually, the Luna Diviner just opened the door to the inside of the castle, shoved him through, and slammed it behind him. Demyx didn't waste time asking why he'd been let go; he just took off down the stairs and back through the hallways, scared sober. By the time he got back to his bedroom, after way too many twists and turns and getting lost more than a few times, he was almost dead on his feet and ready to collapse into bed.


	6. Part 6

_Are You Challenging Me?_

  
The public recreation room of the Castle that Never Was tended to get very little use; mostly, the members of the Organization entertained themselves elsewhere and only went through the public room on their way somewhere else. Today, however, Axel had Guitar Hero II set up on the big-screen TV and was taking on all comers, starting with Roxas, and beating them handily. Sure, Roxas had been a shill, but the Flurry had needed a practice round first, and Luxord, who definitely wasn't a shill, had gone down just as hard. The truth was, Axel was damn good at Guitar Hero - second best in the Organization. And just maybe, if he took on and took down enough challengers, the best Guitar Hero player in the Organization would hear about it, and have to defend his reputation - and maybe Demyx would finally start to come out of that shell he'd built around himself.

  
"Sorry, Marly - you should know I don't go any easier on girls!" Axel grinned maliciously as the Graceful Assassin swore at him in at least three different non-human languages. In a best-of-three contest, Marluxia had only made it through two rounds. "Or pixies, for that matter!"

"You arrogant bastard - you're flying for a fall, and I know just who's going to knock you down!" Marluxia turned around and stormed off in the direction of Demyx's room.

"I thought that was supposed to be you," Axel called mockingly at his retreating form. Perfect - that couldn't have worked any better if he'd just plain told Marluxia to go get Demyx. Hell, if he had, odds were Marluxia would have told him to stick his order someplace really painful. Humming to himself, he addressed the hooded figure that was sitting on the end of the couch, reading a book. "Afternoon, Zex - you wanna try a round before your eyes fall out?" No answer. He tapped his shoulder. "Is the book that fascinating?"

The figure's standing height was a good six inches taller than Zexion's. When the man lowered his hood, he only confirmed Axel's sudden suspicion that he'd mistaken the other's identity very, very badly. "Are you...challenging me, Axel?" Demyx asked with a raised eyebrow as he slid the headphones off his ears.

If Demyx accepted, and won, all the effort he and Roxas had put into this setup would have been worth it. That was what they'd been hoping for - getting Demyx's spirit out of whatever dark hole it was in, step by step. Axel, as usual, said the first thing that came to mind. "Shit. I thought you were Zexion."

"Zexion isn't the only one who reads books. But if you were challenging me to Guitar Hero, you're on."

"Okay...best two out of three?"

"Four out of seven. You pick the songs, and the difficulty." Demyx put a hand on Axel's shoulder and pulled him in closer. "If you try to throw one round, I'll know it," he murmured.

 _Shit; he's on to us._ Axel swallowed hard and chose Medium, which is what he'd been playing at all day. _At least I get the satisfaction of knowing Marly's wasting his time..._ "'Free Bird' sound good to you?" Demyx nodded absently as he picked up the guitar Marluxia had discarded. "Right...four out of seven..."

The match lasted exactly four rounds. Axel had heard the warning in Demyx's voice, and given each match his all; he was afraid to do anything less. Demyx kicked his ass left, right, and center all the same - his playing was almost completely flawless; Axel had fumbled more notes just watching him play than he would have if he was trying to lose on purpose. By the end of the fourth round, Demyx's sea-blue eyes were blazing with unmistakable triumph, and there was a fierce grin on his face. "You like that?!"

Axel just stared. "...I give. Please stop destroying me." There was a large audience gathered to watch Axel's humiliation at the hands of the Melodious Nocturne, and as long as he was in front of it, Demyx was grinning from ear to ear. But once the rest of the Organization had dispersed, and Axel finished collecting everything and heading back to his room with it, following Demyx...he noticed the musician's attitude had completely changed. His head was bowed, and he was dragging his feet; stumbling a little every so often, as if he wasn't paying much attention to where he was going.

But...I thought it worked... "Demyx? Are you okay?" Axel called down the hallway. No answer. He jogged a little to catch up. "Demyx?" Still no answer. He shifted the weight of the guitars to one hand and tapped Demyx's shoulder. "Come on, answer me..." Demyx finally turned around, his face red and puffy from tears. "...Are you okay? What happened? You were fine five minutes ago..."

"Nothing." The word sounded like it had been ripped out by force.

Demyx turned to go, but Axel caught his shoulder again. "Is this more of the same 'nothing' you wouldn't talk about last week?"

Demyx sighed and swallowed hard, trying to compose himself. "Axel, I know you and Roxas are trying to help, but...it's not helping. Just leave me alone, okay?"

"No." Axel tightened his grip, but Demyx slipped out anyway, and disappeared through a portal.

* * *

 

_In the Storm_

  
If Axel or Roxas could have seen him now, they would have thought for sure he'd lost his mind. No one in their right minds chose to go outside while Larxene was in such a foul mood, and they only sought out the skyscrapers if they had a death wish. But Demyx was still sitting out in the rain, on top of a skyscraper, listening to the thunder and watching the lightning. The sound of the rain was lost to him now, and was probably lost forever, except in his memory, but as long as he could still hear thunder, he knew he wasn't completely deaf. Life wasn't as bad as it could be.

He wrapped his arms around his knees and shivered a little as the thunder roared over him like a wild, savage animal. He knew sitting out in a thunderstorm, soaking wet, on top of a tall building wasn't the healthiest thing he could do, but it was worth it, for the chance to listen to one more concert from the sky, complete with fireworks. _How could anyone look at this and be terrified?_ he wondered. _This is beautiful..._

Another burst of thunder sounded overhead, unmatched by any drum mere mortals could play. He felt it shaking his bones as much as he heard it with his ears - so breathtakingly powerful, so awesome, he could barely think about it. It was a damn shame he only got to experience this when Larxene was having a temper tantrum. If she saw him out here, she'd probably try to aim a bolt of lightning at him - good thing it wasn't him she was mad at, but Luxord. He didn't know why and didn't want to ask.

Another deep, boneshaking rumble - he shivered again. Kingdom Hearts, that was incredible. How could he ever lose this?

_Is this the last time I'll ever hear thunder?_

He lay flat on the roof of the skyscraper, watching the lightning flash overhead, hearing and feeling each rumble of thunder that followed. _Enough. You promised once already that you were done moping all the time. You've been doing just that lately - why else would Axel and Roxas try to lure you into playing Guitar Hero, if they weren't trying to get you to cheer up and quit being such a raincloud? Don't think ahead. Take each day - each second - as it comes. For now, all you have to do is listen to the thunder, watch the lightning, feel the rain._

_That's what's important right now. Don't worry about your next hearing test; worrying won't bring your hearing back. Don't worry about what Axel and Roxas might think. No more fear. No more grief. No more dread. All there is is this moment. Live in it now._

_This is all you need._

Demyx closed his eyes and lay there in the rain, letting the thunder roll over him. In the pounding rain and vicious wind, in the middle of the wild storm, he felt at peace.

* * *

 

_Dreams_

  
"I always knew you had the gift, Edmy. The day you were born, the first time your mother gave you to me to hold, you looked into my eyes for a moment, then you looked at the sitar behind me and wouldn't look away."

Edmy smiled to himself as he continued to play; his grandmother had told him this story often enough he could almost recite it by heart. It was always in Hindi; they always used Hindi at home, because his grandmother never learned to speak English very well. "When you were two years old, you became very sick, and I had no money for a doctor. Everyone told me to prepare for your funeral, because you were going to die. But I sat by your bed and played for you, day and night, until your fever finally went away and you were well again. It was the music that cured you, and saved your life."

Not a word was different from the last time he'd heard this litany. He always listened anyway, while he played; she always recited it while watching him play. "And when I came to America, I had only two treasures worth bringing with me from India: you, and the sitar. You cried during the entire journey, except for when you could see the ocean, because they kept our luggage away from us until we landed, and you thought the sitar was gone forever."

Edmy nodded distantly; he didn't remember any of what his grandmother was telling him - he'd been too young. And she never told him what he really wanted to know. He knew - or had been told, at least - his father was from Australia, but what had he been doing in India? How had his parents met? Did his father know he existed? What had happened to his mother? Was she dead, or had she just abandoned him? Whenever he asked, his grandmother just sighed, and murmured something about how long ago it all was - no less recent than the events she was detailing right now, but no matter - and sat there with this thoughtful look on her face until she eventually started talking about something completely different. Besides, there was no use interrupting her right now. "When the day came that I finally started to teach you to play, you were so delighted." That, he actually remembered. It had been a dream come true. "You didn't stop smiling for weeks. And you never complained about having the mezrabs on your fingers - I know I whined about it nonstop, until my father threatened to stop teaching me, but never a word of complaint from you."

That was the end of the lecture, at least until the arrival of the next milestone she could reminisce about. Now she'd sit there and listen to him play until dinnertime, or until his fingers started to hurt too much - she was right, he never complained about it, but she could tell when they hurt by how his playing changed - and she'd tell him how beautifully he'd played while he helped her make dinner or she forced him to rest his hands. But - for the first time he could remember, she kept talking. "You must have been my older brother in a past life." He almost missed a note; he'd never heard her say that before. "He was another master of the sitar, the most wonderful player I've ever heard - though I'm sure you'll be as good as he ever was before long."

As she reached down to ruffle his hair, he dared to ask: "What happened to him?"

His grandmother sighed. "Ah, it's been so long..." Edmy felt disappointed, sure he'd found another subject she'd never talk about. "When he was eighteen years old, he started to lose his hearing...no one knew why, it was so mysterious...but within a year, he was no longer able to play, because he couldn't hear the music anymore. He took his own life."

Edmy shuddered a little. Being deaf - having to live without music - that seemed like the worst of all possible fates to him. It was the only good reason he could think of for suicide. He tried to force that thought out of his head and continue playing, but - something was wrong - the music...

He couldn't hear anything.

He tried playing it over again, but there was no sound. It was like he wasn't even touching the strings. He looked up at his grandmother in horror, but she just looked back at him in confusion. (Why did you stop, Edmy? You were doing so well!) she said - but he couldn't hear her voice. He only knew what she was saying by watching her face.

"But...I can't...I can't hear it," he tried to protest - but no sound came out.

Demyx jerked awake, drenched in a cold sweat, wondering what part of that was an actual memory and what was just a dream. "Was it just a dream?" he asked out loud, then stopped, horrified.

He could barely hear his own voice.

* * *

 

_67 Percent_

  
(Total hearing loss to date...is approximately 67 decibels in each ear.)

67\. Like 67 percent, as in two-thirds. Yes, Demyx was smart enough to figure out fractions and percentages, even if math wasn't his strong point. So, with only a third of his hearing left, and since he was only half a person to begin with, without a heart...that must mean he was only a sixth of a person now.

Demyx nodded distantly. "Vexen...I don't really think I want to know the numbers anymore. I know it's just getting worse all the time, and there's nothing anyone can do about it...that's all I really need to know." He was at the point where he could barely hear anyone speak at all, including himself - even yelling was almost whisper-soft in his ears. But what he really wanted was to get out of these regular visits. They were starting to feel like a waste of time - it wasn't like Vexen was doing anything to help, just monitoring his progress, and Demyx wanted as much time to himself as possible. He was even starting to see the fact that he was only sent on the easiest of missions anymore as a good thing, not just a sign that he wasn't good for much anymore.

Vexen didn't say anything about not having to come back for any more appointments, which was disappointing, but not unexpected. It was lunchtime by then, but Demyx didn't feel like going down and eating with the rest of the Organization. Instead, he portaled down to the Hall of Empty Melodies. He could always make himself something to eat later. Right now, he had something better to do. He summoned his sitar, slid the mezrabs over the dark grooves in his fingertips, and gently plucked a string.

He sighed heavily. He hadn't heard a thing.

He tried again, a louder note. Still nothing.

He bit his lip - no, it couldn't be gone, not yet, not so soon - and tried one more time, putting all the power he dared into the stroke. That was it. That, he'd heard. The dark hole in his chest that had suddenly opened when he couldn't hear the first notes quietly sealed itself again and disappeared. Another stroke, another note - the beginning of that warming, soothing, purifying sense of completeness that he always sought, and that only music could ever provide him.

_That's the power of music. It can even make a sixth of a person feel something like whole._

He continued to play, and the notes flowed, strong and steady, like a river to the sea. _I'm so lucky. None of the others have this. Even if I won't have it for long, at least I had it for a while._

And for that while, as long as he was playing, the least among them felt like the greatest. He had the power to create a whole person out of not much of nothing.

Another empty hole inside suddenly demanded his attention, and he laughed softly. First he had to finish playing, then he had to write all the music down. Then he could go make himself some lunch.

* * *

 

_Drowning_

  
Demyx always wished Xemnas would get a swimming pool installed somewhere in the castle. It would have been so nice to go for a swim whenever he felt like it, and the castle seemed so much bigger on the outside than what he knew his way around from the inside...surely there was some large, empty room towards the ground floor that would be just right for converting...besides, he'd put in that exercise room that basically only Xaldin and Lexaeus ever used...

 _Well, it's not like I'd get that much use out of it now. Won't be around long enough to make it worth his while, unless someone else took up swimming._ Demyx rolled over onto his stomach and traced curling lines in the wet sand with his index finger. _Besides, no way would Xemnas ever be able to build a real beach...and this is so much better than a swimming pool..._

He would have loved to lie on the sand, alone under the warm sun, for the rest of the day, but just because he wasn't actively needed at the castle today didn't mean no one would notice if he went out for the day and never came back. Eventually, he stood up, left his T-shirt and boxers behind the same rock where he'd left his robe, pants, and boots, and waded out into the ocean, swimming when he started having trouble touching bottom.

Once the water was about twice as deep as he was tall, he let himself sink.

Once he sank to the bottom, he waited there patiently as his eyes adjusted to the relative darkness underwater. Most people would have been really suffering for lack of air by then, if they hadn't either given up and surfaced or blacked out and drowned, but Demyx had a secret - a special ability that let him stay underwater as long as he cared to, and protected him from his own element.

He would feel really, really stupid trying to explain his gills to the rest of the Organization, though. Axel would be unshakably convinced his Other had been a merman, for one.

Well, a fish tail would be handy right about now, though not quite as handy as gills. He'd be able to slice through the water so much more easily that way. _Maybe next time, I should go to Atlantica,_ he thought - no, too highly populated. He preferred not having company, at least not human or humanoid company.

 _There you are,_ he thought, as the dolphins appeared out of the blue and swam around him. That was one of the reasons he liked this particular beach - he'd made friends with the local pod, and they seemed to think of him as an odd-looking, mute dolphin who came and went as he pleased and didn't seem to need to surface. Normally, they chittered and squeaked at him as they swam, but today, they were oddly quiet.

He sighed. _They're not quiet. I just can't hear them. I can't hear human voices anymore, so why should I still be able to hear dolphins?_

His aquatic companions seemed to pick up on the change in his mood and started nuzzling him with their beaks, crooning to him. For some reason, he could hear the low croons better than the high-pitched squeaks and squeals they normally made. One of the little calves nosed at his ear, as if guessing what was the matter with him. _Sorry, little baby. I don't know if I'll come back. I wanted to say goodbye, just in case._

Dolphins never seemed to worry about the future. Their concern was getting the most out of now. As they played and splashed around him, he realized how much he envied them.

* * *

 

_Can You Hear Me?_

  
Demyx was in trouble, deep trouble, and he knew it. He'd expected today's meeting to be just another meeting, one where he could sit back and pretend he could actually hear a word anyone said. Unfortunately, Xemnas had taken this opportunity to start asking him, personally, several pointed questions, in public, about why he seemed to have been slacking off so much recently. He'd have had a hard time answering, if only he'd known Xemnas was trying to talk to him. Though, granted, his humiliation couldn't have been much more complete than it already was. If it could get worse anyway, it was going to.

He really didn't have much of a hope, trying to hide from Saix. But just maybe, if he stayed out of everyone's way long enough, they'd forget about him and how he wouldn't - couldn't - respond to a thing the Superior said. And odds were, no one would expect to find him where he was, wherever he was - he'd managed to get himself completely lost, in a part of the castle he'd never been in before. When he found himself in the dungeons, he wasn't particularly surprised. He might have ended up there anyway, had he been caught, but as things were, he could pause, and take a bit of a breather.

A powerful hand suddenly clamped down on his shoulder and whirled him around forcefully. He'd been caught.

Saix said something to him - probably snarled it - but he was between Demyx and the nearest light source; he couldn't see his face clearly enough to read his lips. Demyx just shook his head helplessly; he couldn't seem to find his tongue, and his voice was a hopeless cause. Saix just brought his face closer and repeated whatever he'd said - Demyx flinched back from his hot breath, but still had no idea what he was saying.

Saix dragged him off his feet, into the light, then ripped off his hood and headphones, taking a little blond hair with them. (Can you hear me now, Nine?) he demanded. Demyx was in full-fledged panic by now, completely paralyzed, wishing he could muster enough control over himself to at least try to escape but knowing it wouldn't help him any even if he could. His mouth was completely dry, which was a foreign sensation to him, and he couldn't have said a word to save his life.

Then, suddenly, the panic faded away. He was left with a remarkable feeling of clarity and serenity. _What can he do to me that's worse than what I'm going through?_

He stopped shaking, and looked Saix straight in the eye. "No. I can't." He was a little amazed how steady his voice felt, freely admitting to the Luna Diviner what Axel and Roxas had been trying to pry out of him for months. "I haven't been able to hear anyone talk for almost a month so far, including myself, though I started losing my hearing long before that - almost as soon as I came back from New Orleans. That's why I couldn't hear anything the Superior said at the meeting. I can read lips, but he was too far away." As Saix stared at him, he smiled and shrugged apologetically. "So, you've caught me, which I guess is what the Superior ordered you to do. But there's really not much you or he could do to me that would make my existence any worse."

Saix was one of those Demyx thought had forgotten emotions completely, except maybe anger and rage, but he could see something in those burning yellow eyes - astonishment, disbelief, confusion, maybe even a little...respect?

_Respect? From Saix? Yeah, right..._

But for some incomprehensible reason, Saix released his grip on his shoulder. (Then go. Quickly.) Demyx took a few hesitant steps backwards, not quite believing what was going on - did he really just let me go? (No one will waste time looking for you outside. By tonight, the Superior will have forgotten what he wanted you for.) Demyx nodded and took off through a portal, wondering what had just happened.


	7. Part 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is chapter one out of two that contains a suicide attempt (albeit a not very successful one).

_Pen and Paper_

  
_I, Demyx, being of sound mind and body..._

He read and reread the eight short words written across the top of the page, then crumpled the sheet into a ball and threw it at the trash can. Strange; when he was writing music, he never wanted to stop. Sometimes he only stopped when the pain in his hand and wrist became unbearable. Trying to write his will, though...he just wasn't getting anywhere. He was having trouble even coming up with what he had that someone else might want. His clothes? Luxord was the one closest to him in size, and he didn't think the Gambler of Fate would have that much use for a bunch of T-shirts with snarky sayings on them, or that memorialized various bands and tours. Axel and Roxas might, but they were all too small for Axel and too big for Roxas. Besides, when he thought about it a little more, the idea of wearing a dead man's clothes...yeah. Forget the shirts. They'd probably end their lives as dustrags anyway.

He sighed, stood up, and looked around his room. Well, there was his stereo. It was a wonderful machine, top-of-the-line, not even a year old. Surely someone else would be able to put it to good use. And there were only two people he liked well enough to consider giving it to. He pulled a coin out of his pocket - _heads, it's Axel's; tails, it's Roxas's._

He flipped it - tails. Roxas would get the stereo. Well, Axel could have his guitar as a consolation prize. The redhead couldn't find his way around a sitar to save his life; maybe he'd do better with a simpler instrument. His other instruments - the violin and the beautiful viola d'amore he'd purchased mere weeks before breaking his shoulder in a training accident - he wasn't sure what to do with them. Axel could have them too, if only for safekeeping. And the stacks and stacks of CDs filling up the cabinet under the stereo - they could split those. Zexion might even like some of them, though he wasn't quite sure where the Schemer's musical tastes lay. Whatever he liked, Demyx probably had at least a few CDs of it.

He had a few books, too. For a second, he decided to just leave them all to Zexion, but on second thought, he probably wouldn't like all of them. He wouldn't even necessarily like any of them - books on musical theory, instrument care and maintenance, photoessays of tropical beaches, guides for the care and keeping of tropical fish, a few cookbooks and fantasy stories, even some books written in Hindi. Naminé would probably like the fantasy stories, and the books about tropical beaches - the poor girl was almost never let out of her room; she'd probably love a view of the worlds outside, even if only in a book. And if Axel was going to get all his instruments, besides the sitar, he should probably get the books about how to take care of them, and the musical theory books too, together with an admonition to actually _read_ them once or twice. The cookbooks - hell, they could go to Xaldin, and let him read it as a backhanded insult to his cooking if he liked. What was he going to do to him? The rest of his collection, Zexion could have, including the books written in Hindi. He could teach himself the language with them, if he didn't already know it; he was probably more than smart enough to do it.

That only left one thing. Demyx looked at his desk, at the sheets of music lying neatly stacked on top of it - months of work; dozens of short compositions that, played together, made up his magnum opus. He took his pen and a blank sheet of paper and wrote one line on it, near the bottom.

_The music I write belongs to the worlds._

He smiled to himself and started over at the top of the sheet. _I, Demyx, being of sound mind and body..._

* * *

 

_All That I Have_

  
It wouldn't be long now.

Even when he was playing his loudest, Demyx could only hear the faintest tones, the echoes of notes. It was - just barely - still enough to keep him satisfied, but he knew the end was near. Time to start thinking about how exactly he was going to do it - he'd decided against throwing himself off a balcony as too easily thwarted. Sleeping pills had the appeal of being painless, but he wouldn't necessarily just go to sleep and not wake up; he might start puking his guts out and choke to death on his own vomit, which was a _really_ nasty way to go. And then there was the problem of actually getting his hands on them.

As long as he could still hear the music, he still had time to decide. Right now, he had something else to do. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on Roxas's door.

Axel answered, not entirely surprisingly. Roxas was still sitting on the floor with a video game controller in his hands. (Hi, Demyx - you coming in?) Demyx shook his head. (What's up, then?)

Demyx took another deep breath, fidgeting with the sheets of music in his hands. "I'm giving a concert in about five minutes, and I need an audience."

Axel blinked at him, then shrugged. (That's worth an interruption.) He turned his head and said something to Roxas, who hit a few buttons on his controller and put it down. (Okay, lead the way, maestro.)

Demyx half-smiled and opened a portal to the Hall of Empty Melodies. "There should still be some excellent seats available...seeing as I've only sold two tickets. And those, I practically had to give away." Axel laughed as he went through the portal.

Roxas hung back for a few seconds. (Is there some special reason you're doing this?)

Demyx shrugged. "I wanted to. Isn't that good enough?" Roxas shrugged and went through the portal. Demyx followed, and closed it behind him. He took a seat on the stage and summoned his sitar, as Axel and Roxas tried to decide which were the best seats in the Hall. "They're all equally good," Demyx told them. "I checked." They didn't pay attention, which gave him some time to get his music in order and make sure his sitar was properly tuned. By the time they were satisfied with their seats, he was ready to begin.

All the music he'd written and collected, since well before he'd started losing his hearing - it was all spread out in front of him. He started with the oldest piece, one he'd written while watching the rain - Roxas would never have heard it before; it had been written before he arrived. Demyx couldn't hear any of the soft, pattering melody, at least not with his ears. In his memory, it was as clear and beautiful as it had been the day he wrote it, almost as beautiful as the music of the rain itself.

He didn't look up until the song was over, and he was retuning his sitar for the next song. Axel and Roxas were looking up at him in anticipation, almost as if they were a little mesmerized. He couldn't help but smile.

_All that I have to offer is the music...it's my last gift to you, before I die. I hope you like it._

* * *

 

_Silence_

  
_That's it. It's over._

Demyx had known this day was coming, that it was imminent, and he'd done his best to prepare himself. But now that it was here...Kingdom Hearts, the ache in his chest, in his whole body, like he was about to split open and reveal himself to be nothing but a hollow form - completely empty inside.

He was completely empty inside. He could no longer hear music. He could no longer hear anything.

But somehow, he wasn't crying. Maybe he'd prepared himself better than he'd thought.

He had a will written, and months worth of music, but he hadn't thought to write a note ahead of time. Maybe it was just as well...he'd be forced to write anything he wanted to say just before the end, when it would mean the most...but he couldn't think of anything he really wanted to say, that wasn't covered in the music or his will.

Eventually, he added a short note to the first sheet of music - a line from one of his favorite songs. _I don't want the worlds to see me, 'cause I don't think that they'd understand - when everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am._

His sitar was lying on the floor, so it would be the last thing he saw. The sheets of music, and his will, went on his pillow, and he sat down on the foot of his bed to avoid getting any blood on the papers. He'd eventually decided on cutting his wrist with a straight razor as the easiest method - trying to throw himself off a building was too likely to get him caught, he didn't know where to get his hands on a gun, sleeping pills were too iffy and were also hard to get a hold of, and he couldn't drown, which would really have been his preferred method. He pulled his gloves off, rolled his sleeves up, took the razor in his left hand - and stopped.

_This isn't that difficult. Just one quick cut, a little pain for a few seconds, and it's over._

The razor hovered over his wrist. _Just a little further. It's not much. You can do it._

The blade was right against his skin. _There. Now just press down a little._

He put a little pressure into it; his skin split, and a little blood oozed out. _A start, but not deep enough. Try again - like you mean it this time._

He tried. Kingdom Hearts knew he tried. But he could not force his hand to push that razor one bit deeper. _What's the matter with me? Why can't I do this? This...is...not...difficult..._

He took a deep breath. _Look. Do this now, or you're facing a good, long life of nothing but silence. What are you waiting for?_ He tightened his grip on the razor, pushed it just a little bit deeper, got just a little more blood...

It wasn't enough. The blade simply refused to go deep enough to cause any serious damage. No, the fault wasn't in the blade - it was his hand. He couldn't bring himself to do it.

Now the tears were starting to flow. _Why can't I do this? I don't want to live like this! I can't!_ The barely-bloodied razor fell to the floor. Without realizing it, he screamed.

By the time Axel, Roxas, and Zexion arrived, the shallow nick on his wrist had stopped bleeding, and he'd fallen across the papers. None of them noticed the razor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Iris © The Goo Goo Dolls


	8. The Day the Music Died

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this chapter seems a little disjointed from the rest of the story, it is. This was once its own story, published months earlier than "Losing the Melody".

"'Laissez les bons temps rouler' means 'Let the good times roll'."

  
Axel looked up from his video game. "...The hell did that come from?"

Roxas shrugged. "I remember when Demyx hauled us to New Orleans for Mardi Gras, you asked what it meant. And I just found it in this book I'm reading."

"Ah...no idea how you could remember that..." Axel went back to blowing things up on a screen - almost as much fun as doing so in person.

"Are you questioning my memory, Mr. Got-it-Memorized?"

"Well, no, but...hey, if you can remember that well, then explain why somebody didn't tell me what it meant then."

"Because you said 'Laissez les bons temps rouler - got it memorized?...What the hell does that mean?' and Demyx laughed so hard he couldn't talk for ten minutes."

"Jeez, you can remember little conversational details months after the fact and you can't remember who you are or where you came from...aw, dammit!" Axel threw his controller at the TV screen as he himself was blown up. "Say, where is he, anyway?"

"Probably in his room, either with headphones glued to his ears so you have to grab him and shake him to get his attention or listening to his stereo with the bass cranked up loud enough to break windows. Like he's been for the last month, when he wasn't in meetings or on a mission." Roxas turned the page. "You could yell his name with a bullhorn and he wouldn't hear you unless you were actually in the room with him, I swear. Actually, it's got me kind of worried."

"Bah." Axel selected "Load From Save Point" and hastened back to a happy place where he could start fires and cause explosions to the content of that empty spot in his chest without getting in trouble for it. "He's flaming batshit insane about music, got it memorized?"

"Well, most of the time I've known him, he's only been crazy about music. You've known him a lot longer than I have - does he usually wear headphones to meetings? Or to meals? He's been pretty withdrawn recently too."

The redhead was caught off-guard, and missed a chance to violently obliterate some harmless object. "I guess you're right. There must be something eating him, or he's just gotten dumber in the past month. Wonder what s-"

Axel dropped his controller. Roxas's hair stood even more on end as a tortured wail rose from the Melodious Nocturne's rooms.

The Key of Destiny and the Flurry of Dancing Flames looked at each other silently. Axel didn't bother to pause his game; Roxas didn't waste time finding a bookmark. They both dropped what they were doing and ran to see what had happened to Demyx.

The musician's precious sitar lay abandoned on the floor. Demyx himself was curled up in a ball on his bed, clutching his head and sobbing uncontrollably. "He looks like he's lost his heart all over again," Roxas said softly. He raised his voice a little. "Demyx? Are you all right?" There was no answer from the distraught Nocturne.

  
"He wouldn't be having a major meltdown if everything was dandy, Rox..." Axel took a step closer. "Hey, what happened?" he asked in a louder tone than Roxas had used. Still no response. "Demyx? What's going on?" Not even a twitch to show he knew they were there. Axel walked up and touched his shoulder. "Come on, talk to us."

Finally, Demyx looked up and realized they were there. "Go away, Axel," he sobbed in a loud and oddly distorted voice. "I don't want to talk."

Axel sat down next to him. "Seriously, what's eating you? You haven't been on any big missions in the past few days, you can't have -"

"I don't want to talk, Axel. Go away." Demyx buried his face in his pillow.

"Demyx, you have to talk sometime..." Roxas said. "A regular bad day couldn't make you scream like that; there must be something seriously wrong." For all Demyx responded, he might as well not have been there. Roxas turned to Axel and shook his head. "I don't think we're going to get anywhere."

Axel and Roxas jumped as the door slammed and locked. Demyx didn't so much as blink. "At least I got here ahead of most of the rabble," Zexion said disdainfully. "And what, exactly, are the two of you doing here?"

Roxas stepped back defensively. "We wanted to see if he was okay," Axel said. "What's wrong with that?"

"Of course," the Cloaked Schemer sneered. "Now that it's blatantly obvious he's not okay, everyone and their Heartless wants to make certain he is."

Axel drew back a little. "Well, then, could you in your infinite wisdom tell us what's wrong with him?" he asked challengingly.

Zexion didn't answer. He walked over to where Demyx was still sobbing quietly into his pillow and withdrew a pencil from his pocket. Holding it no more than an inch from the other man's ear, he abruptly snapped it with a noise like a pistol shot, making Axel and Roxas nearly jump out of their skins.

Demyx didn't react.

Zexion pocketed the broken pencil. "Now do you understand?"

Roxas saw the light before Axel did. "He...can't hear at all, can he?" he said softly.

Zexion shook his head. "His hearing began to fade mysteriously months ago. Four and I were the only ones who knew about it - Four because Nine came to him in hopes of a cure as soon as he realized what was happening, myself because I happened to be in the laboratory one day, overheard their conversation, and wouldn't be satisfied until I had the whole story. He swore us both to secrecy - he wanted to pretend everything was normal as long as possible. He even taught himself to read lips, I believe, so he could carry on a conversation and pretend to hear what the other person was saying perfectly well. When his hearing loss became so severe not even lip-reading could carry him through, he took to wearing headphones and blasting loud music day in and day out to conceal it. He did admirably well - clearly, not even you two suspected anything." The Schemer sighed heavily. "But there was one eventual loss even he realized he could never compensate for. I believe tonight's breakdown originated when he finally realized he could no longer hear his own music."

"...Oh," Axel said in a very small voice. Music meant more to Demyx than it should have been possible for anything to mean to a being without a heart, and now he'd lost that forever. "I...can't imagine what that would be like," he added, but some small part of him that remembered how to love and what it was like to have a heart said _It would be like watching someone you love die slowly in front of you,_ and _It would be like having your heart torn out over several months._

Roxas slowly walked over to the grieving musician and tapped his shoulder. When Demyx sat up, he received a comforting hug. "I'm sorry," the younger Nobody said, making sure the other could see his face clearly before he spoke.

"It's...okay," Demyx replied. The strange, distorted sound of his voice didn't seem so strange now that they knew he couldn't hear himself speak. "It's not your fault. I should be sorry."

Axel put an arm around his shoulder. "Why didn't you tell anybody?" he asked, as soon as Demyx was facing him. _This'll be strange, having to make sure he can see you before you talk to him..._

Demyx shook his head. "I didn't want anybody to know. I hoped...I hoped it would get better...somehow..."

"It's not gonna get better, is it?" Axel muttered, turning his head so Demyx couldn't see.

"Not likely," Zexion said.

The redhead rounded on the slight Schemer. "What about you? You don't seem to be in a hurry to help - or are you just here to spit out some bullshit about how we can't feel anything because don't have hearts so he can't possibly feel like he's just lost his all over again?"

"If I believed that would do some good in this situation, by all means, I would. However, I'm reasonably certain it would do substantial harm."

Axel was not in the mood to listen to academic blather. "Then what are you still doing here?"

Zexion looked pointedly at the door, which was rattling slightly under a nine-sided assault. "Imagine if the entire Organization barged in here at once. What would that do to his mental stability? He may not even realize he screamed; he certainly wouldn't expect everyone else to storm his room demanding to know why. We'd be lucky if the entire castle was flooded out." Demyx was looking up at him, trying to puzzle out the conversation, though he could only see Zexion's face and missed Axel's part entirely.

"I wouldn't flood the castle," the musician said loudly. "I'm not...angry..."

Axel stood up and waved at the window, drawing Demyx's attention to the driving rainstorm outside. "You might anyway."

The Nocturne shrank back a little. "...Oh...I didn't know I was doing that." He reached for the sitar and played a short, flawless melody, and the rain immediately slackened. But as soon as he set the instrument down, his face crumpled again and he began to cry.

"What - wait..." Roxas sat down on the bed and put a hand on Demyx's shoulder. "How could you play like that? If..."

"I remembered how. I remember what notes to play - how it should sound..." Demyx shook his head despairingly. "I just wish I could hear it..." he wailed. "But I've lost it...I've lost it..."

Roxas tapped Demyx's shoulder again to make sure he had his attention. "Lost what? The music?"

"It was everything I had..." Demyx curled up on the sheets again, closing his eyes and shutting out the world.

The rain was intensifying again. Axel stared at Demyx's stereo - he didn't want to think about how much or how long he'd saved for that sound system, but it was a beauty. Even the Flurry, no audiophile himself, could tell at a listen - it was something a truly dedicated lover of music would give their eyeteeth just to drool over.

_All that investment. All that care. All that...screw it, all that love. Wasted._

He sighed and idly started it up. The beat immediately came pulsing through the speakers, hard enough to make them vibrate. Roxas and Zexion both started as the music began, but the stereo's owner - who'd poured his nonexistent heart into music - couldn't hear it.

 _Like existence hasn't pissed on us enough already._ Axel leaned on one of the rattling speakers and listened.

 _"Don't you wanna go for a ride, just keep your hands inside and make the most out of life - now don't you take it for granted..."_ "This is How a Heart Breaks" wouldn't necessarily have been Axel's first choice of song, but it fit this situation, he thought morosely.

 _"Life is like a mean machine, it made a mess out of me, it left me caught between, like an angry dream I was stranded...I was stranded..."_ _Didn't it just make a mess out of you._ The music was pounding out - his hands were starting to feel kind of strange from the vibration. Leaning on the speaker like he was, he was feeling the music almost as much as hearing it.

Feeling it... not hearing...but still feeling...

Axel suddenly grabbed Demyx's arms, hauled him off the bed, and put his hands against the speaker.

 _"And I'm steady but I'm starting to shake...and I don't know how much more I can take..."_ Demyx's eyes widened as he realized what was happening.

 _"This is it now - everybody get down - this is all I can take - this is how a heart breaks!"_ The musician's lips soundlessly formed words as he pressed his entire body against the speaker, as if he was trying to absorb the music into his skin. _"Take a hit now - feel it break down - make you stay while I wait - this is how a heart breaks!"_

The rain didn't stop entirely; neither did the tears. But Demyx was smiling.

Zexion saluted Axel and went to unlock and open the door. "Thank you very much for guarding the door, Lexaeus - leave him alone, Ten, he needs some privacy - you'll hear everything you need to know later, Three - Eleven, make one move in that direction and I'm certain Eight won't need much encouragement to send your flower garden up in smoke -" The voices faded as the door closed again.

Once he was through the crush immediately in front of Nine's door, Zexion made his way to the library - it seemed likely that he would find at least one book on sign language. While he'd have to teach himself before he'd be any use teaching Nine, it would be easier in the long run than relying on Nine's ability to read lips and speak for himself. His speech defect would only worsen the longer it had been since he'd heard his own voice, and reading lips was more difficult than it seemed - Zexion knew that firsthand. He was still trying to puzzle out Nine's last few words before he left. The first part was fairly easy - _Thank you, Axel. I can feel it._

The second part - well, it might have been _It's like my heart,_ referring to the beat. But Zexion was reasonably certain the word "like" had nothing to do with it, and Nine had said _It's my heart._

And perhaps he had only meant that metaphorically - that he had music to compensate for his missing heart.

Zexion wasn't the least bit certain.


	9. Part 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is part two of two that includes a suicide attempt, and this one comes MUCH closer to succeeding than the first one.

_Eyes_

  
Demyx couldn't sleep. He didn't understand why - it wasn't like there were any loud noises keeping him awake, he though gloomily. And he'd grown used to the total absence of ambient noise - it wasn't like that was a totally new experience.

Maybe it was just knowing he should have died, and hadn't been able to bring himself to put an end to it. Or maybe it was knowing that he still had music in some form - maybe it was just as well he'd failed.

_Thanks, Axel. You'll never know it, but you saved my life._

He glanced over the side of the bed - in the dim light of Kingdom Hearts, he could see a bright red sleeping bag stretched out on the floor and the bright red hair poking from the end of it. Axel had moved in for the night, to keep an eye on him, he'd said. He seemed to be sleeping pretty well, for a guard. But as Demyx started to sit up, Axel stirred and looked up at him. (You okay?) he asked, lighting a small fire so Demyx could see his face.

Demyx nodded wearily - he'd never noticed before how the redhead's eyes glowed in the dark like a cat's. "Just going to the bathroom," he said, trying to speak softly. He wasn't really, but it was a plausible enough excuse, and maybe standing up for a few minutes would help him sleep.

(Huh?)

Demyx blinked at him - what was there to not understand in "I'm going to the bathroom"? "I said, I'm going to the bathroom."

Axel sighed. (You probably don't know this, but your voice is a little messed up. It doesn't help that you're trying to be quiet.)

"Oh..."

(Yeah, you sound funny when you can't hear yourself at all. Try to enunciate a little better, and too loud is easier to understand than too soft. Though too loud is apparently more your normal volume anyway.)

"Oh..." Demyx could almost feel his face turning red. "I'm sorry..." he said, trying to speak as clearly as possible. "I didn't know I was doing that."

Axel gave him a thumbs-up. (Better. So what were you doing up?)

Demyx sighed. "I...just couldn't sleep."

Axel smirked, but it was sad, not mocking. (Too quiet for you? Sorry there's nothing I can do about that.) He sat up a little. (You know what'll knock you out in a second? A shot of Benadryl.)

Demyx shook his head. "No. No weird drugs, thanks."

Axel rolled his eyes. (You're never going to forgive me for that, are you?)

"Axel...why don't you go back to sleep?"

Axel sat all the way up. (Someone needs to keep you company.)

Demyx flopped back down on the bed. "You know, you don't have to if you don't want to."

(What if I do want to?) Axel rubbed his forehead. (We were just trying to help all the time.)

"...I know..."

(Why didn't you let us?)

Demyx bit his lip, trying not to cry. "...I'm sorry."

Axel sighed. (Try to get some sleep.) Demyx nodded and pulled the covers up to his neck, feeling like he'd never close his eyes and rest. The last thing he saw were Axel's bright green eyes, glowing faintly in the dark, waiting to make sure he actually slept. __

* * *

_Dying_

  
Demyx woke up that morning knowing he would die that day.

He wasn't overly devastated by that knowledge. A little saddened, yes, but he'd known this day was coming. It should have happened already, and would have, if he hadn't been so nervous with the razor. He went about his morning routine as if there was nothing really exceptional about the day, and while he just couldn't be his normal self at breakfast - he'd almost forgotten what his "normal self" was supposed to be like - Axel and Roxas hadn't noticed anything worse than usual. He felt a little sadder, noticing that, but that was what he wanted, wasn't it? He didn't want them to suspect anything; they'd only stop him. Luck was with him - both his friends were sent on missions that day. _I'm sorry for what you'll come home to, but it's for the best..._

Once he was back in his room, he turned his stereo on and rested one cheek against the side of the speaker, feeling the vibrations dancing across his skin. A few days ago, he'd been able to feel it through his entire body, even reaching to where his heart used to be - just like when he'd been able to really hear music, not just feel it. That sensation had been the only thing that had kept him alive, stopped his hand whenever he started to reach for the razor again.

He sighed sadly. It just wasn't good enough anymore - it wasn't enough like really hearing the music to count, in the long run. He craved the beauty and glory of having the sound ringing in his ears, making him feel less empty even than when he'd had a heart - and it was gone. He'd lost it forever.

_It's time to end it._

Not the razor. He hadn't been able to force the blade deep enough the first time; he didn't want to run the risk of chickening out this time too. Fortunately, he had a backup plan.

Emptying out his closet and stacking his clothes neatly on the bed, he threw a length of cord over the bar, grabbed both ends, and let himself dangle freely for a few moments. Neither cord nor bar showed any signs of giving way - excellent. He'd be able to do this.

Now the next part...he wasn't a genius when it came to tying knots, but he wasn't completely hopeless either. He had to get it just right before he tried it out, and get it done before anyone came in. Thank Kingdom Hearts Axel and Roxas were gone...

 _All right. I think that will do it_. Setting the cord aside for a moment, he went and retrieved the stack of music he'd written in the months before the music died. He smiled sadly for a moment, reading over the melodies he'd created, then set the stack on his bed - it would serve for a note to whoever eventually wondered where he was and looked in. The will he'd written earlier went on top.

It only took a moment to set the little stepstool directly under the bar, slide the loop around his neck, tighten it, and fasten the other end securely to the bar, with just the right amount of slack.

_What comes after this? Is there another life? Some sort of eternity? Or is it just nothingness?_

_Without music, all I have now is nothingness._

He took a deep breath, prepared himself, and kicked the stepstool away.

That should have been it, but - something went wrong - he hadn't tied the noose correctly - it hadn't broken his neck, it was strangling him - he couldn't breathe - he wanted to breathe - he didn't want to die anymore - now that he was going to - he tried to loosen the cord, but - he couldn't get a grip - he clawed at his throat, but he couldn't dislodge it - it was biting so deeply into his neck - he couldn't reach up to untie it from the bar - he even summoned a little bubble of water - he couldn't breathe that any more than air - he was out of oxygen - everything was going dark - no - he didn't want to die - he wanted to live - he was dying...this was it...

The next thing he knew, he was lying on his side, on the floor of his room, projectile vomiting.

For the next few minutes, he was completely helpless, as his body was racked by powerful internal spasms. Once his stomach finished emptying itself, he just lay there, weak, dizzy, and more than a little bewildered. He shouldn't have survived. He couldn't have survived. But there he was. How?

He got his answer when Axel grabbed his shoulder, looking like he'd just gone through something really unpleasant. (Never, ever, ever do that again, got it memorized?)

Demyx nodded weakly, rubbing a hand across his damaged throat. "I'm sorry," he whispered - he had no idea how he sounded, or even if any sound had come out at all. His hands felt oddly numb, especially his fingertips. He held up a hand for a closer look - it seemed oddly...fuzzy. A little blurred around the edges.

(My CPR instructor warned us that whenever you do rescue breathing on someone and they get air in their stomach, they'll end up puking their guts out. Good thing I remembered that.) Axel left him lying on the floor while he moved the papers off the bed and hung his clothes back in his closet, ignoring the burnt end of the cord still hanging from the bar. Once the bed was cleared off, he picked Demyx up and set him gently down on it, careful to avoid the puddles of sick on the floor. (Wondering what's wrong with your hands? When I found you, you were starting to fade.)

Demyx shivered and curled up into a ball, feeling bruised, sick, and somehow dirty. "I don't wanna die anymore," he whispered.

Axel just stared at him for a few moments. (I sure as hell hope not.) He turned to go, but that was the last thing Demyx wanted.

"Ax - please - don't go." Axel turned back, looking at him oddly. "I'm not gonna try again, but - don't leave me alone."

Axel almost smiled. (I was just going after something to clean up the floor with, but if it's that important to you, I can stick around and wait for Roxas to do it...) Demyx nodded hastily, and Axel carefully climbed up onto the bed next to him. The two of them rested there, in presumably total silence, though to Demyx it wouldn't have made a difference if Axel was sitting there playing drums.

Eventually, he realized he was crying. He tried to force himself to stop, but it was hopeless - he soon found himself bawling uncontrollably. It wasn't fair, dammit. Music was the one thing that ever made this useless half-life of his worthwhile, and now he'd never hear it again. Eventually, he'd forget what it even sounded like. And he didn't even have the guts to end it and save himself a long lifetime of misery.

It didn't help when he realized Axel was now cradling him like a baby. He was brushing his hair out of his face, talking to him, but his eyes were too blurry with tears to make out what he was saying. Demyx scrubbed furiously at his eyes. "What?"

(Why did you do that?)

If he even had to ask, there was no way to explain it to him. "I...I...help me."

(I've been trying to. You wouldn't let me.) Axel look like he wanted to cry. (How could you do that?) Demyx choked when he tried to answer. (The music?)

Demyx nodded weakly. "Can't live without it."

(Do you...still want to die, then? Or do you really, honestly want to live?)

Demyx took a few deep breaths, trying to collect himself before answering. "...No," he answered, surprising himself. "I...wanna live."

(Good.) Axel gave him a hug, and he couldn't find it within himself to fight or even protest. (We need you.)

* * *

 

_Teamwork_

  
Demyx was living minute to minute at this point. If he got through this minute, he'd never have to go through it again, and when he got through the next minute, he'd never have to go through that one again, and so on and so forth, as long as he could put up with this unending silence for just one more minute. The only thing he was really looking forward to was his next life - when, hopefully, he'd be able to hear again. He missed music so desperately, and he couldn't even talk to anyone...he couldn't even be sure he made any real sense anymore...

Why had he told Axel he wanted to live? Maybe he didn't want to die, but he definitely wasn't sure he wanted to live. Not like this.

Maybe there was a way around it. If he just tried not to feel this unending grief, ignored the sensation of being utterly empty inside, of being truly nothing, no more real than one of Zexion's illusions... He closed his eyes and tried not to feel anything.

He gasped and opened his eyes. That had been awful - like he'd been on the verge of fading. Not feeling clearly wasn't the answer.

Axel and Roxas were both looking at him with concern - if he thought they'd clung to him like limpets when they still thought he was on drugs, he only got any privacy in the bathroom anymore, and if he stayed in there too long for comfort, they would come in and check on him - that or Axel had been looking for an excuse to spy on him in the shower, one or the other. There wasn't much mystery about where the rope-shaped bruise around his neck had come from, and they were determined to forestall a second attempt - which would actually be a third attempt, but neither of them knew about the razor. They were all gathered in Axel's room, for some reason - Axel was playing video games (by himself, for once), Roxas was reading, and Demyx was just staring into empty space, wishing for a lot of things, including his hearing, something productive to do, that empty feeling to go away, and to stop feeling like he was imposing on the other two 24 hours a day.

(You okay?) Roxas asked. Demyx nodded wearily, then jumped as a portal opened - between Axel and the TV screen, coincidentally. Axel probably cursed loudly and vociferously at Zexion, but Demyx couldn't hear a word of it, or see it, since Axel had his back to him.

(Do calm yourself, Eight. I need Nine for a few hours, assuming he's permitted to venture out of your supervision for that length of time.) Axel said something else that didn't seem to impress Zexion. (Eight, do you have any sense at all?)

(Is having us along for whatever going to hurt anything?) Roxas asked.

Zexion thought about that carefully. (...On reflection, no. It may in fact be of some benefit.)

"What do you want me for?" Demyx asked. It irritated him how Zexion focused all his attention on Axel and Roxas and ignored him entirely, even though he was the one Zexion had been looking for in the first place. _It's like I'm too stupid to answer for myself anymore...I'm deaf, not retarded..._

(...A new method of communication that may be more beneficial in the long term than relying on normal speech.) Wait, I forgot, Zexion treats everyone like that.

"A...new method of communication?"

Zexion nodded. (One designed by the deaf, for the deaf.)

Oh...that was interesting...really interesting... "Can people who can hear okay use it too?"

Zexion nodded again. (It's simple enough to use...) Demyx's eyes were suddenly drawn to his hands - while he was speaking, he made a series of strange gestures. Demyx found himself almost unconsciously imitating the gestures. Zexion noticed. (Excellent. This may proceed much faster than I originally expected.)

Axel turned around and looked back at him. (Is that what he's talking about? That hand jive he's got going there?)

(This "hand jive", as you so charmingly refer to it, is called sign language, Eight. A purely visual form of communication that doesn't rely on one's ability to hear.)

(Oh...that sounds...) Roxas looked interested. (That sounds really useful.)

Zexion raised an eyebrow. (I take it you're interested in learning as well, Thirteen?) Roxas nodded. (Eight?) After a few moments, Axel nodded as well - Demyx could see, as Zexion could not, Roxas's foot planted between the redhead's shoulderblades. Or maybe Zexion could see it; he smirked faintly. (Very well then...we may as well start with the alphabet...)


End file.
